


Pirates of Arcadia (FKA Partners in Time)

by batmanfromkrypton



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Death, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, PTSD, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batmanfromkrypton/pseuds/batmanfromkrypton
Summary: Thanks to reddit user SullenTerror for suggesting the title and for everyone else who contributed. Love you all!Yet another post-bae fic!After the storm wipes out what they held dearest in Arcadia Bay, Max and Chloe find themselves together again. Like when they were little kids, they sail like pirates: life is... so not fair, but the two will sail on that sea, trying to steal a treasure of happiness.Although it follows a path of events, this isn't properly a story: rather, it is a collection of moments in their lives. I hope you can savour them as much as I (and they) did!
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	1. Welcome (back) to Blackhell

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> A bit of context: my name is batmanfromkrypton, and I used to hate fan fiction. I'm fairly new to this world but after replaying the original LiS, and reading a lot of fics here, I decided to give it a go. 
> 
> Please keep in mind that this is my first try with this kind of work, that I haven't been writing in some years, and that English is not my native language, so I'm trying to do my best but it definitely won't be great.
> 
> It's all a big work in progress as I'm writing if and when I can, and I have to say I don't have but a general story in mind. There are some themes that I will want to explore though.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my work though!

October 7th, 2013.

Chloe Price parked her truck in Blackwell Academy's - excuse me, of course she meant Black _hell_ Academy - parking lot, leaving it in the first place(s) she found. It didn't really matter to her that they were reserved to handicapped people: there weren't any at Blackwell as far as she knew and, right now, she had something way more urgent to do than find a parking spot or obey the laws of mankind. After all, she was the Punk Queen of Arcadia Bay, and she had a reputation to defend.

She started walking towards the main building, but quickly went back to her truck and grabbed a bunch of _those_ posters. _While I'm at it_ , she thought, _I might as well put up some more_. She missed Rachel, she missed her a lot: Rachel was her life, and yet she had disappeared without a word, without a trace. _Without her_. She'd been gone for a lot of time now; _Fuck_ , Chloe thought, _in two weeks it will be six months without her_.

This was not the moment to be desperate though; there would be plenty of time for that later, back home or at her hideout - _their_ hideout - at American Rust.  
Chloe went up the stairs and through the lawn but stopped for a moment in front of the fountain to curse at Jeremiah Blackwell, whose decision to set up a school in Arcadia fucking Bay was the cause for a big part of her problems; after all, she was a dropout. To think that she once had actually enjoyed studying, too. Hah. Those were other times.

The lawn was unsurprisingly empty, as most of the students were closed in their classrooms for the last minutes of class before the break, trying to fake attention towards their teachers with more energy than what would be required to actually listen and learn something. In retrospective, being a dropout didn't suck that much.  
Chloe sat on the fountain for a couple of minutes, watching the few cars on the street pass by and enjoying the October sun. Blackwell Academy stood in a very scenic place, and its lawn was actually a good place to relax a bit in a sunny and warm day like that. Maybe, Chloe thought, Blackhell wasn't that bad. Provided she didn't have to attend it, that is.

She found herself surprised at her sudden outburst of positivity and blamed it on the adrenaline for her soon to come rendezvous. Speaking of which, it was time to go. 

* * *

She marched towards the hall and into the ladies' bathroom, carefully avoiding her Step-douche's patrol trip. Nathan was waiting there for her.

"So what do you want?" were the words he used to greet Chloe. It was adamant that he wasn't in the mood to stand her, but she did not care. She wanted that money, she _needed_ it. She had to play badass, not that it wasn't something she loved.

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say. Now let's talk bidness."

"I got nothing for you."

 **"** Wrong. You got hella cash."

"That's my family, not me!"

"Oh, boohoo, poor little rich kid. I know you been pumpin' drugs 'n' shit to kids around here... I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now"

Nathan interrupted her, shouting "leave them out of this, bitch!"

"I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself"

This whole conversation was abruptly stopped by Nathan pulling out a gun. Chloe's blood froze, her bravado suddenly leaving her all at once. She was scared, hella scared. He was mad, hella mad. He started to scream: "you don't know who the fuck I am or who you're messing around with!"

"Where'd you get that?" Chloe cried, "What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!"

"Don't ever tell me what to do. I'm so sick of people trying to control me!"

She tried to guilt-trip him, to scare him, but her voice was trembling. Her last bit of courage left her, and now she just wanted do run away. "You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs", she said, badly missing her objective.

"Nobody would ever even miss your punk ass, would they?" he screamed, and pushed the gun to her abdomen.

 _I'm gonna die in a fucking bathroom in Blackwell_ , Chloe thought. She pictured it: her body, lying down on the floor in a pool of blood. Nathan, scared out of his mind, 'cause as much as he was a dick he'd probably be shitting his pants. David fucking Madsen, the first responder to get to the scene. And then her grave, her mother crying every drop she can and then some more. And then the local TV, the Arcadia Bay Beacon and Juliet Watson too, painting an image of Chloe she hated. And then everybody claiming to be her friends, even though they wouldn't even look her way when they crossed her on the streets. And then --

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Just popping in to kindly ask you, if you liked this please consider commenting and/or leaving kudos!
> 
> And if you didn't, please please please tell me why
> 
> Love ya :)


	2. Back from the dead

And then the fire alarm started screaming. Nathan turned around and Chloe pushed him to the ground, then ran outside as fast as she could, not realizing - not that she would care, anyway - that half of Blackwell was already out of their classes and in the corridors, and that they could have seen her on the premises. Which couldn't have been good in any way, given that 1) she was banned from the grounds and 2) the head of security, as she sadly happened to know pretty well, was a total dickhead.

Chloe stopped running when she reached the yard outside, and went back towards her car. She had dropped a bunch of those missing person posters but right then she didn't care. _If that fire alarm hadn't started all by itself, I'd be dead and done_ she thought; _finally something goes my way... does it?_  
She needed to smoke before taking the wheel. She'd probably kill someone if she started driving, she'd better calm down. She walked across the lawn and towards the pool as most of the students headed to their dorms, leaving the yard only a little more crowded than before the alarm. Leaning on the side wall of the Otters' Lair, she looked at the few souls that wandered the place. _I wonder what they're thinking right now_ , she thought, _if Rachel was here_ _we could be playing that game she liked so much_.  
But Rachel was who-knows-where doing who-knows-what, and Chloe was there, smoking cigarettes. She saw Justin Williams and his friend Trevor _wait, what's his surname?_ and briefly considered going there and chatting a bit before realizing that chatting was the thing she'd wanted to do the least in the world in that moment. Apart from getting shot by Nathan Prescott, that is.

Speak of the devil, Nathan's name was called on the intercom right as she left the yard to take a walk around the Bigfoots field. She wondered why he'd been called to Principal Wells' office. _Maybe this time Step-douche has actually done something useful to the community instead of shooting people in the Middle East and caught that fucker red-handed_ , she thought briefly before dismissing the idea that David Madsen could be of any use to anyone in the world - especially her.

* * *

The football field, home of the Bigfoots and their clique. There were some people sitting in the stands talking, so Chloe, who really wasn't in the mood for any kind of social interaction, decided to take a walk around the pitch. She liked this calm and silent sight of the field. It was very much different from what it would be on game days: Chloe had been to Bigfoots games once, years before, back when she still was a Blackwell student; she'd gone with Eliot, and mostly hated every minute of it: she found sports boring, and hated all that cheerleading thing with all her soul. But on a Monday morning like any other (well, mostly) the place felt calm, almost like a sleeping dog just waiting to wake up and bark.

Chloe sat on the pitch right under the passive-aggressive "Do not step on the field. Blackwell Academy security policy will be enforced." sign and lit up another cigarette, thinking about the earlier encounter with Nathan and his gun. She felt better now, the fear had mostly gone away, but she was still quite uneasy. _I guess that's what happens when you almost get shot_ she thought.  
No matter how hard she tried, how much her brain tried to dig up old science facts, she couldn't figure out what had happened with the fire alarm. Of course it couldn't have been just a test: she remembered how they were like and they weren't definitely taken in the breaks between classes. It could have been an electrical failure, sure, but that'd be unlikely to say the least. David was a paranoid but at least he'd always make sure there were no failures at home - _that's why he wants me out_ , she laughed bitterly to herself - and she could easily imagine him being that pedantic at work, too.  
There was no rational explanation. There couldn't have been anyone in there, she had checked all the stalls before her confrontation with Nathan and she was sure he'd done the same, because even if he was a Prescott, being caught in the girls' bathroom would have given him quite the reputation for being a creep - more of a creep than he already was considered to be, that is.

 _So, if no rational explanation works_ , Chloe thought, _maybe... maybe I have some kind of power? Maybe I am magic or some shit?_  
She toyed with the thought a little bit before dismissing it. There were no such things as superpowers, of course. Even if she'd have liked to have one. Maybe she could've turned her shitty life around for once.

Finishing her cigarette, she stood up. It was time to go home at once. _Here's hoping that freak fire alarm incident keeps Step-fuck at work for long_ , she said to herself as she walked towards the parking lot.

* * *

When Chloe reached her truck, she saw there was some kind of trouble going on in the other side of the parking lot, and yet again Nathan fucking Prescott was involved, apparently having a row with some girl she didn't recognize and a boy that sure looked like Warren Graham. _Wow Nathan_ , she thought, _now you're going to fuck with the nerds too?_  
She started up her truck, determined to at least stop Nathan again, even though the idea of running him over and burying his body at the junkyard sounded quite cool in her mind.

As she drove towards the three, she could see Nathan headbutting Warren, then grabbing that other girl by the neck and pushing her. She had to suddenly stop her truck in order to avoid running her over. Just as she was going to leave her truck to punch that fucker once and for all, the girl stood up in front of it.

In a moment, all sorts of emotions ran through Chloe's brain as she recognized a ghost of her past, now back from the dead in all its earthly glory.  
She wanted to scream, to cry and to laugh all at once. She wanted to tell that ghost just how much pain it had inflicted to her, how much she'd tried to hate it with every fiber of her being and yet failed to do so. She wanted to tell it how much she'd missed it, how much she had longed to see it again. She wanted to punch it right in the face for assuming its ghostly form just when she needed it to be there the most. She wanted to hug it, to prove that it was real and it was there, that it wasn't a ghost anymore.

Chloe wanted to say a lot of things, but all that came out from her mouth was: "Max?"

The ghost looked back at her, itself acting like it'd seen another one of its kind: "Chloe?"

When the two ghosts reunited in Chloe's truck, they came back to their bodily form, and as they drove away from Blackwell's parking lot, we already know what was going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm once again asking, if you liked this chapter or this fic, please consider leaving kudos or commenting :)
> 
> Also, I'm interested in any kind of criticism you might have
> 
> Love you :)


	3. Just your regular Friday afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this is where the story really starts. I hope to be exploring some parts of the conscious of our two heroes from now on. As always, I hope you enjoy it.

Friday, October 11th 2013

"Max? Max, can you hear me? Please, say something!"

Chloe's words woke Max up from her freakish nightmare. It took her a couple of moments to realize they were not on the beach anymore. Chloe must have carried her up the path and to the lighthouse, where they were safe, relatively at least. They now had the unwanted privilege of being able to watch the storm approach Arcadia Bay from a vantage point.

Chloe felt sick. She didn't want people to die in a storm just so that she could live. If what Max had told her was true, she'd died so many times that week: maybe the Universe wanted her out for good, and that fucking storm was its way to stop Max from messing around with its plans.  
And Chloe herself didn't know what she wanted. This week had been the best one in such a long time, and Max was back and she'd _probably_ be there forever after all they had gone through. On one hand, she wanted to live, to be able to start a new life with Max. She loved her, in every way, and she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual; the thought of being with her warmed her heart, and gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, everything could be better in a bit of time. _Not that it's going to be worse than this_ , she said to herself.  
On the other hand, though, the price to pay was high. Maybe it was _too_ high. Was it really worth to sacrifice tens, maybe hundreds of people for a slim chance to live a better life in a distant future?  
She'd lose Joyce. Fuck, she'd lose her mom, who'd die in a fucking diner for her ungrateful daughter. She thought about her Step-- about David, too. He was a dick, for sure, but he did not deserve to die. There weren't many people in Arcadia Bay that Chloe cared about, but there were some. And she'd lose them all: how could her days turn better if she had to bear that thought with her all the time?

The next few minutes weren't easy for the two girls. Chloe tried halfheartedly to convince Max to let her go. She did not want to die, not at all, but she did not want to kill her mum to be able to live. If she could've chosen, she'd just have stopped the storm where it was and sat there, watched the town get back to their usual habits from the lighthouse and hugged Max forever, but she couldn't. She wasn't the one who could've.

Max was the one who could've chosen and she did. She tore her picture of the butterfly in half and grasped one half, watching the other fly away. She was conscious that there was no going back now. She knew that she'd just _chosen_ to kill hundreds of people, but when Chloe grabbed her by the hand she couldn't feel regret.

Together they watched the town they'd grown up in get eaten by the storm.

* * *

The storm went by as fast as it had come. Max and Chloe couldn't stand to watch it, and eventually turned around and sought shelter behind the shed by the lighthouse. They sat there on the ground hugging each other for who knows how long until the sun came back out from behind the grey clouds.  
The rain had stopped and so did the cold wind. It suddenly felt warm even though their clothes were soaking wet. It was, once again, the cruel irony of the Universe manifesting itself in the form of a day which would've been wonderful, if only the two hadn't just killed half a town.

Chloe and Max went back down the path and to Chloe's truck, going through their motions like robots. They were shell-shocked as they went through Arcadia Bay Avenue and passed what remained of the Two Whales. They did not say anything, because there really wasn't anything to say, but mostly because they wanted to get out of there as soon as they could, and trying to say anything would surely mean the two of them would start crying for so long they'd probably have to spend the night there.

All along the ride through the ruins of their soon-to-be past lives, Max looked out the pickup window. She saw a couple of bodies here and there along the way. She really couldn't recognize them, and this gave her brain a twisted thought that maybe, just maybe, all of it would turn out to be another weird dream. She hated it: that slim hope could just mean more pain when the reality eventually kicked in. And yet, a part of her wanted to ask Chloe to stop the truck so that she could touch one of those bodies and see for herself if she was really a murderer.  
Of course, she did not say anything. After all, she already knew she was.

When they left the town a sign read "Another great day in Arcadia Bay". A few minutes after passing it, they encountered the first few emergency vehicles. In the next minutes, while they were leaving the mess they had made behind, they'd grow accustomed to the sight of ambulances and firetrucks coming their way: the world had finally acknowledged their tragedy.  
Chloe was driving but they didn't really know where they were going. They hadn't figured that out, they hadn't even talked about it. Chloe thought they should have eventually headed to Max's parents in Seattle _given that she was the only one to have parents now_ , but in that moment they were just heading north without any direction.

* * *

The silence in the car could not be described as awkward. Sure, it was an awkward situation, in the worst sense possible, but that wasn't the reason why the two girls did not speak. They were thinking more or less the same things, and each one knew what the other would say. They'd said everything they had to in their minds.  
Approximately twenty minutes - but that had felt like twenty hours - after leaving Arcadia Bay, the silence was finally broken. It wasn't any of the girls who spoke; rather, Max's phone must have had picked up some signal, which for obvious reasons was absent back in the Bay, and now she was getting a couple of messages.

Before she could check to see who was writing her (and maybe that would mean they were alive), Chloe's cell phone started ringing. She stopped the truck immediately and grabbed it, reading the name "sgt. step-dick" on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Chloe? Where are you? Are you still in Arcadia Bay? Are you ok?"

David's voice was at the other end of the line. He sounded scared, and genuinely concerned for her step-daughter's wellbeing.

"Where are you? Where's Mom, is she ok?" Chloe asked in a hurry.

"Chloe... I'm sorry... I..."

Chloe had known all along. She'd known that being alive meant sacrificing her mother, the only family she had left, but deep down she still had a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Joyce would be saved. Now that hope had turned into despair. Her eyes were set on some distant point in the woods, her gaze empty and meaningless.

At the other end of the phone, David was just as distraught. He could barely put together any words, and he just kept repeating how he much he was sorry, how Joyce's death was his fault. Chloe wasn't really listening to him. Her only thought was her mother's face, her voice, her skin, her. She knew she wouldn't see her anymore, she wouldn't hear her or touch her. She felt broken and guilty.

She realized that David was really concerned about her, so she summoned the whole of her strength to force some words out of her throat, out of her lungs, and into the phone's speaker.

"I'm OK. I'm with Max, we're safe, outside town. It's not your fault... David. It's not your fault."

She hung up and started crying quietly, her face on the steering wheel. Max had been crying since Chloe had answered the call. She couldn't bear the knowledge of having killed Joyce, her best friend's mother, her only family. She wished she was the one destined to the grave. _That way no one would be suffering_ , she thought.  
The two sobbed alone for some time; it was Chloe that eventually stopped crying and hugged Max. She brought her mouth close to Max's ear and whispered to her: "it's not your fault, Max". Her friend started crying even harder, only repeating how she was sorry between one sob and the other, which made Chloe cry again. When they eventually ran out of tears to shed they resorted to a short moment of silence, and then Chloe took the leadership.

"Ok Max, we've got to go somewhere. We need to spend the night some place safe and, let's go to Newberg and find a motel there. We've still got some of that money." Max nodded absentmindedly. "Then, tomorrow, I'm afraid... I'm afraid we'll have to go back."

"No!" Max protested with an unexpectedly vigorous tone. "No - she continued, her voice now as frail as ever - I don't want to go back... please, Chloe, I don't want to go back. Please, I don't want to... please..."

"We will have to, Max. But now let's get to Newberg and figure out something, see how people are doing." Chloe was directing this comment to Max, not without a pinch of bitterness; after all, everyone she had cared about in her life was dead. First her father, then Rachel, and now Joyce too. She immediately felt guilty about that thought: after all, Max had gone to great lengths to save her, and she had suffered a lot too. Chloe knew she wasn't alone, she knew that Max cared about her and she knew that she cared, that she wanted to be with her for ever; but deep down in her conscious she also knew that a part of her, a small but fierce voice in the last side of her brain would always blame Max for her mother's death.  
She knew it was wrong and she told herself that she'd have to suppress that voice all the time, because Max had already suffered a lot because of her, and she was quite good at self-guilt by herself, without Chloe worsening the situation.

The blue-haired girl looked at her companion, stifled back a new outburst of tears and breathed heavily, then she started the truck and drove away. The road trip to Newberg was as silent as it had been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello good people! As usual, if you liked this chapter or this fic, please consider leaving kudos or commenting as well as any kind of suggestion you might have
> 
> Love you :)


	4. A Night in Newberg

Upon arriving in Newberg, in the early afternoon of that damned Friday, Max thought about how much Warren had wanted to bring her to Newberg for the first time and _Go Ape_. Instead, her first (and probably last) visit to the small town was because she had no home left, she had no shelter, and that was her fault.

During the trip to Newberg, she had called her parents back. She had felt a little guilt in talking to them while Chloe had to listen with no one left in her life, but on the other hand Ryan and Vanessa had been so worried about her, and feeling their happiness in knowing her (and Chloe!) safe warmed her heart a little bit. She was still shaken, of course, but she felt a little bit better. She declined their offer to come back to Seattle the next day: she and Chloe wanted to go back and see what they ( _she!_ ) had caused, and maybe help a bit if they could.  
She also had the time to read the few messages she had received; she was so happy and eager to get more and more of them: they meant people were still alive.

She had received a message from Kate, who was at the hospital; it had been unaffected by the storm, fortunately, but then it had been almost stormed by the survivors. Max thought it was a good thing: if people were at the hospital, that meant they weren't dead... yet. Kate also told Max that she'd seen Victoria on a makeshift bed in the corridors, seemingly alive; there was no one else from Blackwell there, though.  
Warren, texted Max, too. Like, a million times. His worry melted her heart in both a good and a bad way: of course, he was oblivious that his suffering was her responsibility. Still, he was alive, and only slightly injured. Max wondered how it was possible given that he was at the Two Whales with Joyce and, well... she...  
In the end she discovered that apparently, in that specific timeline, Warren had gone to the store on the other side of the road instead, where he found shelter along with a fisherman. He was OK but it was clear that having a front seat to the Two Whales' dramatic end had taken its toll on him. He was shocked, so she let him rest.

When they arrived at the counter of the first motel in Newberg, the man behind it looked like he'd just seen a ghost (or rather, two ghosts). Looking at their reflection in the mirror, Chloe could tell why: their clothes were still wet and dirty with mud from the lighthouse, and their eyes were red and puffy with tears.

"Are you girls all right?" the man asked. Chloe felt the urge to punch him in the face because it was obvious that no, they were not all right; she felt guilty again: he was just trying to be friendly. She just didn't need any of that in that moment.

"Yeah... yeah, we're all right" she answered. "We need a room for the night."

Behind the man, a TV was tuned to a news channel: it showed the Arcadia Bay shoreline, destroyed by their storm. Chloe felt disgusted at the news agencies, already storming in (no pun intended, of course) like jackals on a dead body; and there were plenty of dead bodies there, for the enjoyment of the viewers.

She was so concentrated on her rant that she almost couldn't hear what the motel guy was telling her. "Ok, ve have vacancy... I would need a document though, please."

When he saw the ID, something on his face turned from worry to sympathy. "I'm sorry to ask... are you - are you from Arcadia Bay?" he asked shyly.

"Yeah. Yeah, we are"

"Ok then. I'm sorry for what happened. You can stay here for as long as you want, and don't worry about payments. If you need a place to stay, it's on us. Please feel free to ask me if you need anything"

"Thanks... but I believe we'll be staying here for one night only" Chloe said as the guy handed her the key to a room.

"Oh, and you can tell that to other people from Arcadia Bay... we have a few vacancies that we can give to anyone who needs a roof."

"Yeah, thanks. Of course, will do" she lied. After all, who could she know that was in need of a roof? Everyone she cared about in Arcadia Bay was gone forever.

They got to their rooms and spent the rest of the afternoon there, mostly silent.  
Max was trying to dig up any information she could about all the people she knew, and maybe about others she had just seen on the streets a couple of times, but it wasn't easy. She had only heard from Kate and Warren so far. By making a couple of calls and sending a couple of texts, Max got to know that Evan, Justin and Dana were alive; sadly, she also got to know that, for sure, Zachary and Stella were found dead. Even though she wasn't close to them in any way, when she was told this by Justin her heart broke and she cried again.  
Chloe sat silent on the bed for most of the afternoon, guilt-tripping herself once again, her eyes fixed on some generic point on the wardrobe of the room. She later went to find some food that they could eat for dinner, but the two clearly didn't have any appetite, and left most of it to rot in the trash bin.

In the end, Chloe decided to take a shower. She locked herself in the bathroom and opened the tap, hoping that the hot water running down her body would wash away her insecurities, her fears, her sense of guilt. She closed her eyes and thought about some better, distant future, where she could just be happy for once; the images in her mind felt like blurred photographs but for a moment she believed that they were true, that in the end every sacrifice they had to make would have been for a good reason.  
When she opened them up again, facing the cold, white light reflected on the naked bathroom wall those beautiful images were shattered in a million pieces. All at once, the pictures she'd carefully thought in her head began filling up with blood. It was the city's blood, Rachel's blood, her Mom's blood. All of the people she'd betrayed and failed in all the years she'd been alive were coming back at her, their images filthy, rotten and bloody, and it was her fault. She felt her knees let go and succumbed to the weight of her conscience, finally kneeling down on the shower floor. Her tears mixed with the tap water until she had no more left to cry: in that moment, she rose up again. The ghosts that wouldn't be ghosts if she hadn't been alive had gone away, leaving her some rest; she had no doubt that they would return to haunt her, to remind her of her fate, but she inhaled a deep sigh and exited the shower.

After Max had taken a shower too, herself crying her unfair share of tears under the water, they went to bed. They laid down on their bed and turned off the lights. They had so much they wanted to say to each other, and so much they didn't want to hear that they didn't say anything, just wishing each other goodnight before closing their eyes.  
Even though they both had their own ghosts, their own insecurities, their own anxieties, the long, hard day had taken its toll: they were so worn out that they fell fast asleep.

Max woke up in the early hours of the morning after having a nightmare-ridden sleep.

* * *

**_As soon as I open my eyes, I feel something is off: this is not my bed I am lying in. It takes me a moment to reconnect my memories and remember I am in that motel in Newberg after... well, after all that has happened._ **  
**_Then, suddenly, a bright light flashes in front of me. I close my eyes and open them again, immediately panicking at the sight in front of me: the motel room has been turned into a new Dark Room. The walls are white as snow, and I can see the medical appliances, the photography tools, the syringes I know so well._ **  
**_The light flashes again, blinding me for a moment. When I regain my sight I become aware that I am on the motel room floor. My wrists and ankles are tied together with duct tape, and I am wearing the same clothes as on the cliff during the storm; I can feel they are soaking wet, but when I look down I realize in horror that instead of rainwater, they are dripping blood._ **  
**_Another light flashes in my face. I can now see a fancy, high-tech camera facing me. I look up and see the hands holding it. My gaze then continues to go up, slowly revealing a figure dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing a colorful tattoo that depicts some spiky flower branches and a human skull. The figure flashes their camera again and only then I can see the blue hair coming out of a beanie hat._ **

**_"Chloe?" I mutter._ **

**_Chloe Price puts her camera down and kneels next to me. She starts talking. "Did you really think I would come back to bring you any good?" she laughs contemptuously. "You're so fucking naive... you killed so many people... for me?" Man, you're so dumb! I wish Rachel was here, she'd have so much fun looking at your face! So bad that fucker Nathan killed her. You know, he was so, so sorry that I actually felt bad for a moment after killing him. Well, good riddance in the end I guess"_ **

**_I am speechless. I can feel tears coming out of her eyes._ **

**_"Oh, is Miss Time Lady here crying?" Chloe mockingly says. "Are you sooo sad that you fucked it all up? Do you wanna change this shit again? Well, I'm sorry lady, but you can't."_ **

**_"And do not even dare ask me why" she continued. "You were always my subject, from the beginning. And you were so innocent, so naive that you fell right into my trap. You even kissed me in my room! Man, how the fuck could you think I felt anything for you?"_ **

**_She briefly stops her monologue to take some more pictures of my face, before talking again._ **

**_"Are you that innocent, though?" She points to the blood on the floor. "That's some serious slaughterhouse show you've put on in the bay!"_ **

**_Suddenly, the motel room door slams open. Joyce Price marches in, her body covered in blood, holding a gun. She points it to Chloe's forehead, shouting._ **

**_"You! You spoiled brat, you were my only child, and you let me die in a fucking diner so that you could play some stupid games with the slut here?" She pronounces the word "slut" with such emphasis that she shatters my last defenses. I start crying, my vision red from the blood that makes up my tears._ **

**_"You know what, Chloe? I should have done this long ago." She pulls the trigger, and a bullet goes through Chloe's head. I watch the blood spill on the ground and on the wall as Chloe's body falls backwards in a familiar motion._ **

**_Joyce kneels down next to me and looks at me with pure hatred in her eyes. "You think I only came for Chloe, don't you? Well, I didn't. You're guilty as well. You killed me just as she did."_ **

**_"Joyce... I'm sorry" is all I am able to mutter._ **

**_"Yeah, kiddo, I'm sure you are. You probably didn't even think of me when you shredded that picture at the lighthouse. All you've ever thought of is yourself. Well, now you're going to pay for this."_ **

**_She takes one of the syringes on the table and fills it with an insane amount of that drug; she slams it into my neck, the long needle cutting through my flesh as I can feel it getting to my spine._ **

**_As I finally feel my brain lose control on my limbs, the pain grows more and more intense. All I can do now is scream as loud as I can_**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Author's note, April 23rd. 
> 
> As some of you may have noticed, I have edited the nightmare sequence.
> 
> If you did, you'll have noticed that I did not change anything but the formatting, tense (from past to present) and the perspective (from the 3rd to the 1st person). If you did not, you didn't miss anything. 
> 
> This was made for two reasons:  
> 1) to visually differentiate nightmares from reality  
> 2) for consistency with at least one later episode]]
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing that nightmare sequence. I believe that it's the best part of the work yet, at least I think I successfully conveyed the feelings Max has towards her choices. I hope you think the same.
> 
> As usual, tell me what you think and consider leaving kudos. Thanks!
> 
> Love you :)


	5. Days after

Max woke up screaming and crying from her crazy nightmare. This naturally woke Chloe up too; the punk immediately looked at her friend with worried eyes: it was three a.m. and she had woken up with a loud shriek, and then she was crying and breathing heavily, as if all the air had just left her lungs and she had to gasp for some more in order to keep living.  
Turned out that wasn't that far from the truth: that nightmare, the experience of watching her best friend turn into her torturer, then get killed ( _again!_ ) by her dead mother, they all caused Max to have a panic attack. Fortunately Chloe was there, ready to come to the rescue. Max rested her body and soul in Chloe's arms for what felt like an eternity, listening to her blue-haired friend's soothing whispers until her crying eventually stopped.  
She regained her breath and her consciousness and looked at Chloe with pain, fixing her gaze right into her eyes. She was scared of what she'd find there, she feared that she would see the same cold, hateful eyes that Chloe had in the nightmare, but instead her eyes showed all of the worry going through her brain.

Finally, the heavy silence that loomed on the room like Damocles' sword was broken by the elder of the two.

"Max, can you hear me? What happened? Was it another one of those visions?" Chloe was clearly scared like hell. As soon as she heard her friend scream she'd thought that she'd had another vision, which undoubtedly meant they had failed.

"Chloe... oh, Chloe..." Max cried again. "I had a nightmare... it was... fuck Chloe, it was terrible"

"What did... what did you see? Was it another storm? What happened?"

"Chloe, you... you were so..." Max clearly couldn't bear the thought of what her subconscious had made her see.

"I was what? Did I die again Max?"

"Chloe, promise me you'll never bring me to the Dark Room, please promise me!" Max pleaded, her voice broken.

"What? The Dark Room? Was that what I did in that nightmare of yours?" Chloe asked, and Max nodded, looking down to avoid seeing her friend's eyes. Chloe couldn't say if that was a look of fear, one of shame, or both. "Fuck... Max... Max, look at me. Look at me right in the eyes" she commanded with a soft but firm tone as she moved Max's chin up so that they would be facing each other. "I will never do that to you, Max. This is a promise, alright? Shit, I'd rather get shot in the head!"

The unfortunate choice of words gave Max what seemed like another small panic attack. She started crying again, her breath heavier and heavier. Between the tears, she repeated that she was sorry, who knows if to Chloe or to herself.

"Chloe... I'm sorry... I... I killed Joyce! I didn't want to!" A brief moment of silence followed.  
Chloe wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault if her Mom had died but somehow the words got stuck in her throat. There was a voice in her head that still accused Max of being responsible for her Mom's death, and no matter how hard she tried, Chloe couldn't silence it for good. "In my - Max tried to continue, but her words were again interrupted by her own sobbing - "in my nightmare... Joyce... she killed you Chloe! And then me too! I'm so, so sorry I killed her Chloe!"

This broke Chloe's last defenses, and she started to cry her heart out as well. They sat on their bed, hugging each other like they had done so many times in the last few days, until they both fell asleep again.

* * *

They got back to Arcadia Bay in the late morning. David was waiting for them on the outskirts of town, sitting on his car, which was seemingly unscathed by the storm. His clothes were slightly torn and his hands sported some band-aids, as he must have passed the previous day helping the first responders. His eyes looked tired, but the empty gaze indicated that it was his mind that was mostly exhausted.  
Chloe looked at him and felt a feeling she couldn't recognize. It wasn't compassion, no: she felt sympathy for him. She knew that he was fighting with the same heartbreak, the same utter devastation she had felt every minute since the storm, the same feeling of emptiness and of guilt. She knew his feelings because they were hers; sure, he wasn't _actually_ guilty of Joyce's death like her, but then again he was probably thinking that he should have done something, instead of just _surviving_.

When she got off her truck and their eyes met, her strength finally gave up and she started to cry again. David approached her and as they were close it seemed for a moment as if they would share a hug; they didn't, but their sheer proximity had the force of a million words. All that was meaningful had been said in that brief glance that they shared and, in that moment, Chloe realized that she needed an ally that wasn't Max. Rachel was dead, Joyce was gone, but David... she didn't need another enemy: and she subconsciously came to peace with him, all their petty quarrels now a thing of the past, erased by the storm along with most of her ( _of their!_ ) previous life.

The whole scene had been brief but it seemed to Max, who'd been looking from the truck the whole time, that it'd lasted hours.  
Just two days before ( _or were they nine? or...?_ All of that rewinding had showed some effects on her sense of time too) she would have take a picture to capture that intimate moment, those two people sharing their desperation to lessen their burdens. But she didn't even think about it. Photography, the reason why all of that shit had happened, wasn't really in her mind. She had just forgotten about the instant camera in her bag, her eyes no longer looking at the world as if through a lens. Her whole mindset had seemed to change.

She woke up from her absentminded observation of the two when David turned her way to greet her. When she got of the truck too, they began to talk about one of the many elephants in that tiny room the three shared. As Joyce's fate was clearly taboo, Max broke the silence.

"How are you David?" she asked, immediately biting her tongue. That was the stupidest question she could have asked. Again, on another day she might have just rewound that tiny bit of conversation, but the thought didn't even cross her mind. If even she still had her power, and she most certainly didn't want to know, she had sworn to herself she wouldn't use it again.

"I'm... fine. I've been... I... I'm sorry". He paused for a second and looked down; while he recollected his strengths, Chloe thought about how he'd said he was sorry so many times over the phone about... _that_. She wondered how many times he'd said that in the last 16 hours or so. Meanwhile, David had began to speak again.

"The storm has hit the beach first and then the pier... it has lost force downtown, so the buildings on the hills have been spared, mostly". The bitterness of his voice was clear: the storm had managed to hit harder just where Joyce was working. Fuck you too, Universe.

"Blackwell has only suffered some minor damage, so a small camp has been set up in the Bigfoots field. Our... Your... Home is OK, but we still won't be able to sleep there for some time I'm afraid. I've been..." - he paused for a second, as if looking for the right word - "helping. Helping, yes, all night long. Now I'm going to try and get a tent there. If you want to, I think you can sleep there too".

As the two agreed to follow him to the camp, they started to walk towards their vehicles but halfway through David stopped to turn towards the girls.

"Oh, and... there's going to be a... mass service, early next week. Chloe, I'd appreciate it if you'd come. Joyce is going to be... you know"

Chloe nodded silently, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her. She heard Max silently whisper "I'm sorry", more to herself than to David or Chloe.

Their conversation ended there and they were all silent once again, immersed in their own black thoughts until they arrived to Blackwell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup! If you liked this humble work, please consider leaving kudos or commenting :)
> 
> Of course, I'm really interested in any kind of criticism you might have! Thanks!
> 
> Love you :)


	6. Catching up

October 15th, 2013

 **THE NEWBERG ECHO  
**"HORROR BUNKER FOUND, TEACHER ARRESTED"  
Amidst the chaos caused by the sudden storm that hit Arcadia Bay last Friday, the local Police force acted on the tip by fellow Arcadia Bay resident David Madsen and discovered a hidden bunker beneath a barn on the hills. A teenage girl, V.C., 18, was found there, apparently drugged [...]  
A Blackwell Academy teacher, Mark Jefferson, has been found to be the person operating the bunker, which he used to drug and photograph young girls, some of them his own students. He has been arrested and he is now being held in Tillamook for interrogation.

 _Of course..._ Max thought _. David went to the Dark Room in this timeline... we told him. I wonder how he must be feeling... Wait. No, no, it can't be!_ She read the article again, realizing in horror that V.C., 18, was probably Victoria. _That explains why Kate saw her at the hospital..._

She immediately started typing Chloe.  
**Max:** Chloe  
**Max:** Are you free right now? We need to talk  
**Chloe:** what happened  
**Chloe:** is everything ok? do u need me are u ok??

Chloe's quick response briefly warmed Max's heart. Their conversations had mostly been desperate, first, and somewhat cold, then, since the storm... and Joyce. Max had actually wondered whether or not she and Chloe could still be friends, whether or not something in their newfound bond had broken; Chloe's responses each time Max needed some comforting showed that she still cared for her more than anything else. She smiled briefly, then answered.

 **Chloe:** max??????  
**Max:** I'm well. ( _She actually was_ relatively _well, she thought_ )  
**Max:** It's about David. And Victoria.  
**Chloe:** what happened  
**Max:** We need to talk to David. Do you know where he is?  
**Chloe:** idk wait  
**Chloe:** ok hes at blackhell hauling things ive been told  
**Max:** Can we meet there like now?  
**Chloe:** yes but what is it  
**Max:** Great omw.  
**Chloe:** what is it???

Max looked up from her phone screen and into the tent she and Chloe had been sharing for the last week. She put her phone in her pocket and sighed. The two were not really spending much time together. Chloe was immersed in her work aiding the relief effort, which was probably the only thing still keeping her sane, and Max had mostly spent her days trying to catch up with the past she had created but she didn't remember ( _did she live it at all? she didn't know, and she didn't want to dwell on that trivial, philosophical matters_ ).

She had tried to assess the damage she had done by reading some articles online and watching the news. Each time the death count was updated, or the amount of destruction around town was mentioned, she felt a deep guilt sting her stomach, as if she would be going to puke. More than once, unable to control that physical pain her anxiety gave her, she secretly wished she was the one being shot in the bathroom. After all, almost a hundred innocent people - some of which she knew - had died all over town because of her.

She took the black thoughts that were ready to come bursting into her own mind once again and summoned the last bit of her mental strength to force them to retreat away in some dark corner, then exited the tent and crossed the street towards the main building.

* * *

Chloe put her phone away and looked at the soldier next to her, who she was - until half a minute earlier - helping repair a generator. Turned out she was the most skilled mechanic available that morning and she was actually relieved to be able to change her work routine a bit; after all, her days since Max and her had come to the tent camp had all been the same: wake up, move some medicine crates around, dig up some rubble downtown - though she always carefully avoided the place where the diner once stood - and sleep badly at night. That, and cry a lot.

"Uh, hey Dan... uhm, Private Parsons" she told the man. He was really almost a boy; he couldn't have been more than a couple years older than her, but he still was a soldier, she thought.

"Chloe, I think you can call me Dan... it's been slipping for two days now anyway, I think we're good anyhow. What do you need?"

"Um, I... I need a break"

"Ha! Me too, god knows how much I'd give for a cigarette right now!"

"Yeah... but seriously, I'd need to go talk to my stepfather. I think it's urgent"

"Yes, of course. I think I can handle this by myself... see you later?"

"Yeah, later". She started going towards Blackwell but she stopped in her tracks and went back to Dan. She fished for something in her pockets and took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. She took one out and gave the last one to the soldier. "Here you go" she said, "have a smoke".

"Uh, oh, thanks... that's not enough for a bribe though!" he joked as the punk walked away.

As she reached the fountain in front of the school, which was now missing its head, decapitated by the storm that had spared Blackwell any major damage, she saw Max sitting on the stairs, looking down. She looked sad and guilty, like the day before, the one before it, and any single day since the storm hit the previous week.

She greeted her and received a half smile from her (best?) friend in response. _Well, I don't think I can ask for anything more right now_ , she thought.

"So, what is it with David and Victoria that we needed to see him that fast?" she asked Max.

"Chloe, in this timeline... did we warn David about the Dark Room?"

"Yes, text the night before... this"

"He went there with the police... and Victoria was there"

"Shit..." a small moment of silence followed, as the two let the thought of David entering the Dark Room sink in. Max still had those images from the multiple times David was killed down there stuck at the forefront of her head, and she couldn't help but look at her wrists, just to check they weren't tied with duct tape. They weren't.

"But why hasn't he told us she was there? Why should he keep it a secret?"

"Honestly Chloe, I don't know, let's just ask him"

Chloe nodded absently, seemingly already immersed in another thought. They went into the main building and found David there, carrying around some sort of crate with a military logo on it. Max recalled she'd seen that same symbol painted on one of the boxes in David's garage.

"Hey David" she asked somewhat shyly.

"Hello Max. Chloe..."

"We need to speak with you for a minute if you can. As soon as possible"

"Yeah, I think I can right now, but what is it? Are you girls okay? I mean..." David seemed to think about the obvious stupidity of his last question. "Shit" he muttered between his teeth.

"Can we speak somewhere more... private?" Max asked.

They exited the building and stopped next to Jeremiah Blackwell's severed head, which laid on the ground next to his lonely metal body. Chloe briefly looked in her pockets for a cigarette, then remembered she'd given the last one to the soldier at the camp. When she faced up again, she saw David holding a cigarette in her hand. He looked at her and said, half jokingly "Just don't smoke too many". She silently took it and lighted it up, surprised at the offer as she couldn't even recall David ever smoking. As if he could read her mind, he started talking.

"I've been four years clean before all of this shit, but... I understand that you'd need a smoke after... with... with all of this"

A feeling of uneasiness pervaded the air between them as Joyce's death was still, clearly, a taboo subject.

"Why haven't you told us the truth, David?" Max asked, her tone not accusatory in any way, but rather curious at the answer for her own question.

"Excuse me?"

"We saw it on the newspaper, about Victoria. You actually went there". Max's voice trembled as she searched the right words to avoid letting it slip that she knew all too well what she was talking about.

"Fuck... You know? I don't know. I... I shouldn't have been there, there was a storm in town! I should have been... at the diner... Instead I went to the police". His tone dropped and his words felt dark and guilty.

"Bullshit!" Chloe spat. Until then, she had remained silent, almost a bystander to Max and David's conversation. "We sent you there. You saved Victoria Chase's life. You've done good"

David's eyes lighted up at Chloe's words. He was expecting anything but comforting words from her stepdaughter, especially since her mother, the last piece of her family that she still had, had died because he couldn't protect her. He looked at Chloe with watery eyes, as if looking for the right words to gap the bridge between them and finally form a bond that wasn't made of sheer hate. Ultimately, he couldn't, and all he could say was a trembling but wholeheartedly sincere "thanks". But Chloe had already zoned back to her thoughts, or so it seemed.

"You know", he continued "I still don’t know how you pulled off that whole investigation thing, but I'm glad you didn't have to see that". Max winced slightly at the words but faked it through. "As shitty as it might seem, I'm glad neither of you was the one down there when I came in. I don't know what I could've done. Fucking Jefferson..."

Max suddenly felt very uneasy. She could feel the stickiness of the duct tape on her wrists and ankles, a needle pressed into her skin. She could hear the clicking of a camera and she could swear that the sun had just turned white, like a photoset light. She remembered David, overpowered again and again and again by Jefferson before he could finally stop him. She suddenly felt the urge to let it all out, to cry and scream and tell everyone what she had gone through, but she couldn't.

Chloe spoke for her. "I was drugged by Nathan", she said almost casually.

David looked at her in disbelief, his jaw dropping to the ground and crushing into a million tiny little pieces. "What the fuck?"

"Some time ago. He spiked my drink, but it wasn't enough to bring me there. I thought he just wanted to, I don't know, fuck me?"

David pressed his face into his hands, trying not to cry in front of the girls. "Shit... I was so fucking blind! Prescott, Jefferson! I should have known it, I should have stopped them! FUCK!" he screamed the final word with full lungs into the clear sky.

"It's not your fault, David. You did what you could" Max said with the most reassuring tone she could conjure.

"Nathan fucking Prescott! I knew it! I FUCKING knew it!" he fell dead silent for a second, before spitting out some last words: "I'm glad that sicko's dead... sorry about that" he said with guilt after a moment of complete silence.

"Ain't we all?" Chloe asked somewhat sarcastically. "Look, it isn't your fault". Her voice suddenly had a much quieter, introspective tone. "And it _definitely_ isn't your fault that Mom died".

Max felt the pain sting her heart with such intensity she swore she could die there, Chloe's words passing through her already frail conscience like a sword. Whether or not it was intentional, she couldn't tell.

"It's just..." David said, visibly struggling to contain the tears, "... it's just I miss her so much... God..."

"Yeah, I can relate" Chloe said dryly.

"I'd like... I'd like to be alone for a moment, please" David said. The two girls said their goodbyes and left him sitting on the fountain. It wasn't until they were out of his view that Chloe stopped, let herself fall on the ground and started to cry her heart out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm once again asking, if you liked this so far, please consider leaving kudos or commenting :)
> 
> Any suggestion will be very welcome too
> 
> Love you :)


	7. Another sunny day in Arcadia Bay

October 18th, 2013

The sky was the lightest blue over the Arcadia Bay cemetery one week after the storm. The sun was bright and it was warm as if it was a late summer day: Max thought it was a very subtle way for the Universe, Fate or whatever to say _fuck you_ to Arcadia and its people.

A mass service was scheduled for the late morning, with most of the almost one hundred victims being buried in the cemetery. Walking in with Chloe and David, Max stopped in front of the plaque that had quickly been put up to commemorate those who had lost their lives. She felt conflicted: she did not want to see the names of the people who'd died because of her choice once again, but at the same time she felt deep inside her the urge to look for herself at the consequences of her own actions.  
As she scrolled through the list of names, her heart sank deeper and deeper every time she'd read a name she knew. Stella. Logan. Officer Berry. Joyce, Joyce, Joyce.  
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see her father nod knowingly to her, signaling at the same time that he understood ( _not that he really could, but at least he was trying..._ ) and that it was time to go to the service.

Max's parents had come from Seattle for the funeral in order to keep close to their daughter and Chloe, and the latter felt that closeness. As bad as the circumstances were, she was glad that Ryan and Vanessa, whom she hadn't seen or heard from since their departure, were back so quickly to check on them. And she was so, so glad that David was alive too. As crazy as it would have been to think about that just a couple of weeks before, Chloe realized her and David needed to be on the same side, to stick together. Joyce's death had bridged the gap that previously separated the two.

After the service, which both Max and Chloe were hearing without really listening to it, the two girls went with David to Joyce's grave for the first time. The three kept silent looking at the new, polished plaque that stood next to William's slightly worn one, but their silence conveyed a million words that couldn't be spoken.  
Chloe was especially grateful to David for having Joyce buried next to William and with the Price surname. After all, she was his wife, she had taken his surname, and yet he wanted to have her buried next to her first love, the father of her daughter. As for him, he had always known that despite all the love she really felt, he could never surpass William: he'd made peace with that fact long ago, and burying them next to one another seemed the best thing to do to honor their lives.

After a brief but heavily emotional moment, Chloe turned around and asked to be left alone with her parents for a moment. Her dad-daughter talks were going to become a full family conversation now.  
After leaving Chloe and David, Max suddenly felt uneasy with all the death surrounding her. Being next to Chloe somehow seemed to filter out the feelings of desperation and despair that the mass funeral held; when they were together, Max could swear that, despite everything, all would end well, eventually.  
But with Chloe kneeling in tears in front of her parents' graves, whose deaths Max still felt she was responsible for, reality hit her hard. All of a sudden, she could see kids grieving their parents' deaths and grown men cry over their children's graves. All of that because of her.

She decided she couldn't bear it any longer and rushed out of the cemetery, gasping for air as she felt her own breath thinning.  
She was outside the place and on the side of the road, bending on her knees and trying as hard as she could not to vomit, when she saw a shadow coming in front of her, soon followed by a pair of shoes walking on crutches. As she looked up trying to recompose herself, she was surprised to see Frank Bowers standing in front of her.

* * *

"I should have been in there" Frank said, killing the cigarette butt with his only healthy foot.

"Why haven't you come to the service?" Max asked him back. At first, she was stunned to see him there, but then she realized she hadn't seen his name on the casualty list. She was happy to know he was ok, even if they weren't in a good relationship by any means, at least in this timeline. But as Max had grown to understand in the past week, the storm had the potent side effect of knitting the people of Arcadia Bay together, even going as far as helping repair strained relationships such as Chloe and David's.

"I don't think Arcadia Bay's most known dealer would be appreciated at the service" Frank laughed bitterly. "But that wasn't what I meant."

"What was it, then?"

"I meant that I shouldn't be here right now. I should be down there, buried under six feet of land."

"I... I'm sorry" Max said stuttering. She understood how guilty Frank felt, but still, the thought of him wanting to be dead caused her a lot of pain for some reason.

"Yeah, me too. You know, I was at the diner". His talk was slow and thoughtful, as if he was weighting every word carefully. "And I'm the only survivor! Joyce was in there, Pete, a couple truckers... and someone else, too, I don't know. A lot of decent folks in there and who's the only one coming out of that hellhole alive? Me, the fucking drug dealer!" he laughed bitterly, gazing absently towards the cemetery gates. He looked at the ground for a moment before saying matter-of-factly "I don't deserve this."

"You know" he continued after another moment of silence "I don't know why I came to you right now. After all, we don't know each other and I've only been a dick to you anyway. I guess I want to see everyone I might know in some way and tell them I'm sorry for being alive."

"Don't be" Max whispered quietly, her voice pleading him to stop.

"You're a bit late for the therapy, kid... I lost everything. I lost _everyone_. I lost my home, I lost my money. I lost Rachel..." Max suddenly wondered whether or not he knew the circumstances behind her death: after all, as far as she could see on the news and the papers, they hadn't been revealed. She dreaded the thought of what he could do if he knew.

"I lost Pompidou, too... God, I miss him. I don't think I can ever get another dog."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, I feel helpless... and useless."

"Don't worry, kid. I feel a little less shitty now. Talking to you was... good, I think?"

"I hope so."

"How's Chloe?" Frank suddenly asked, changing the subject of the conversation to even more painful, if possible, topics. After some more talking, Frank eventually stood up and walked away, thanking Max again for the talk.  
She couldn't really understand how she felt about all of that: on one hand, the pain Frank showed, both physically and emotionally, was like a dagger skewering through her spine: _yet another life ruined by the Great Max Caulfield_ ; on the other, she felt somehow better. Frank felt guilty, like he didn't deserve his life, like all of that was his fault and his alone, and thus he was the person that - albeit unknowingly - understood her the most.

* * *

Only Max, Chloe and David were sitting around the table in the living room; Max's parents had thought it'd be better to let them talk between themselves, to avoid interfering. Max, too, felt somehow uncomfortable, as if she wasn't supposed to be there. After all, it was a talk between Chloe and David. She was only there for Chloe, to try and help her if she needed.

44 Cedar Avenue, Arcadia Bay. _Home?_ Chloe felt sick the exact moment she set foot in that house she feared she couldn't call home anymore. Knowing her mum wouldn't be waiting for her in the kitchen, knowing why... that was too much for her.

During the ceremony at the cemetery, Chloe had decided she needed to leave Arcadia Bay forever. And this time, after all the things, all the _people_ that town had taken from her, it would have been for real. When she talked to her parents she explained it. She felt they understood. So did Max, of course, and her parents too. They would be picking both girls up while going back to Seattle and Chloe would stay at their home as long as it was needed. The Caulfields were like family to her - actually, they were the only family she had left.  
The only problem was telling David. Chloe was actually surprised, albeit in a positive way, to find herself caring about David's thoughts. She feared he wouldn't take her decision well, and she was right. 

Max sat silently at the table, her gaze low and guilty as she tried not to overthink while heavy silences and heated exchanges of words followed each other in a seemingly never-ending loop.

"You're leaving me alone! In this house!" David screamed. "Do you realize what this means for me? How I feel about this place?"

"Oh, I'm great here instead! I didn't use to live here with my parents, after all, and they aren't both dead and buried!" Chloe shot back with her usual dark sarcasm. 

"I know, I know! It's just... I thought... after all...". It seemed to Max like David had finally reached a point where he couldn't express his thoughts anymore, but she couldn't tell whether it was because of pain or anger. Either way, Chloe clearly didn't have such problems. 

"After all _what_? Yeah, bonding has been great, but you can't tell me what to do, you're not my Dad!" she spit out, and her face immediately showed the regret for what she'd just said. After all, Chloe was the only piece of family David had left. "Shit... I'm, I'm sorry, David..." she tried to say, but the man's gaze was down on the table and at the same time lost in thought somewhere away. 

"You're right, Chloe, I'm not your Dad. You can go, when you want to. If you feel that's right, I won't stop you. I'm not that kind of person anymore" he said, his tone resigned to the fact he had lost.

 _He is right_ , Max thought as she quickly dried the tears that she couldn't hold back anymore. Just a couple of weeks earlier he wouldn't have surrendered so fast to Chloe's will, and who knows how he would have responded to her step-daughter's insolence.  
She couldn't take it anymore. She excused herself, got up from the table and walked upstairs to go to the bathroom and try to hide her meltdown _again_. She noticed that the window on the corridor was broken, only closed with a couple of wooden planks that were letting the first Autumn winds in the room. Into the bathroom, she remembered how many times, as a little kid, she'd been there in the morning, being deliberately late so she could smell Joyce's breakfast, and how Chloe would storm into the room and forcibly bring her down because she wanted to eat. Knowing that none of that would happen ever again because of her felt bad, but at least she had Chloe by her side. She was a bit ashamed of that, but she knew that no matter what she could ever have to sacrifice, her friend would always be the first of her priorities. That was for sure.

Some minutes later she descended the staircase and went back into the living room, where she found David sitting at the table with a bottle of whiskey but no sign of Chloe. They exchanged a few words and she once again realized just how tired that man was. Everything in him, from his voice to his face, from his skin to his hair, everything was the image of a man who had finally lost. She felt genuinely sorry for him and for a moment she thought about trying to convince Chloe to stay there, together, just for a little while. But she knew that wouldn't work. 

She waved David goodbye and walked outside to her parents' car. Chloe was already there, engaged in some small talk with them. They double-checked that they had taken every necessary thing from the girls' respective rooms and departed the town one last time, just as the Sun started to set, casting its beautiful light over the Bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! If you liked this fic, please consider leaving kudos or commenting :)
> 
> Also, if you have suggestions or criticism I'm interested in it!
> 
> Love you :)


	8. Home

The trip away from Arcadia Bay wasn't pleasant by any means. Chloe had hoped to part ways with David somewhat amicably but their conversation had clearly been less than successful and that had taken its toll on the usually outspoken girl, who was instead silent for most of the way. She was too immersed in her own thoughts, already wondering if she'd made the right choice. After all, her decision was quick, maybe _too_ quick: just the time to pack a couple of bags with her clothes and some random stuff, have a last argument with David for old times' sake and everything that was her past was behind her back. Well, almost everything. Her town, her house, her truck, Rachel and David: they were all gone. But their ghosts were still there, in her head, occupying maybe even _more_ real estate than their physical counterparts. At least she'd never see the Diner again. 

As for Max, nothing much had changed in her behavior: since the storm, she had become even more introverted, resorting to silence most of her time, even around the few friends she had left; that, with Warren and Kate still recovering in the hospital, would be Chloe alone.   
Max's parents understood how - and they _thought_ they knew why - the girls felt and didn't try to push them, and seemed themselves immersed in their own thoughts, despite some occasional small talk.

During the first, _original_ week she and Chloe had spent back together, rediscovering and furthering their friendship, Max had thought many times about the two of them ultimately going up to Seattle to visit her parents. She had fantasized about showing Chloe the sights, and teaching her how to take pictures with William's old Polaroid. Now all of those plans were as distant as ever: they weren't in Chloe's broken pickup with the sun in their eyes and the wind in their hair - Max had immediately admitted to herself her dreams were such a cliché - listening to some obscure punk band the blue-haired girl liked. Instead, they were in the boring family car, and the only sounds that could be heard were the buzzing of the engine and the radio, which Ryan commandeered with the greatest precision in order to avoid any possible news broadcast. Even though many days had passed, shifting the media's attention to other topics, the storm was a taboo and the Caulfields didn't want to risk causing any further pain to the two girls.

They eventually arrived at the Caulfield's house in the evening. As Ryan parked in the driveway, Chloe took the time to look at the place where her best - _only_ \- friend had disappeared for the last five years. It was a nice home, slightly bigger than Cedar Ave and painted a dark shade of red. She noticed Vanessa's touch in the flowers on the front lawn. As far as she could remember, Max's mum had always loved gardening. 

Ryan parked the car in the driveway and opened the front door, holding it open for Vanessa and the girls in a playfully blatant way.  
The moment Chloe stepped into the house which was effectively becoming her home, at least for a few weeks, she smiled in recognizing the style that she'd seen in Max's room: the lights were dim and the colors warm; the stairs that brought to the first floor were wooden ones and she recognized Max's photos among the pictures framed on the walls. The whole house had that kind of vibe that the Max from _that_ week personified. Now, the house still had it, but the girl seemed to have lost it. 

Chloe was deeply immersed in her thoughts when she realized that Vanessa was talking to her. She had a sweet smile on her face, but her eyes were sad: Chloe couldn't tell exactly what emotion they conveyed, but felt it could have been compassion, some kind of motherly affection or a mixture of both.

"Welcome to our home Chloe. And this is your home, too, now." Vanessa sighed for a moment, looking for the right words: "As bad as this whole thing is, we are glad that you are with us. And anything you might need, you just have to ask, ok? You're family here." 

"Thanks, mrs. Caul - sorry, thanks Vanessa"

"For now I'm afraid we don't have a spare bed, we'll go looking for one as soon as we can next week, alright? In the meantime, you could sleep in Max's bed." She briefly turned her attention to Max: "You could come down and sleep on the couch for a couple of nights only, couldn't you honey? Otherwise, her bed is big enough for two people if you're comfortable with that. Little miss here wanted to get a lot of space when we bought the furniture!"  
Vanessa's attempt to lighten the mood clearly failed, and she rushed to end the conversation by leaving the two girls to decide how and where they wanted to sleep. 

Once alone with Max, Chloe tried to conjure up her best fake-excited mood and said "well, won't you show me around your house?", to which Max, still looking absent from time to time, responded by leading Chloe to her room. 

Max's bedroom looked somewhat bare, as most of her valuable things had been moved to Blackwell and were either still there or in some boxes downstairs. A Mogwai poster was hung on the wall over a dresser, and some polaroids decorated the room, but other than that the room looked more or less pristine. An unusually tidy desk, the result of Max's absence from Seattle, was just over by the window that showed the light of the moon; on its right, the biggest touch of color was represented by wardrobe full of stickers that Hipster Max must have had collected during her years in the big city; on the other side of the room there was the bed and itwas, indeed, big enough for the two girls to sleep somewhat comfortably together. On the bed sat Max with her face buried in her hands.

Chloe sat next to her and put an arm over her shoulder, embracing her and letting her feel her warmness, her presence, but she couldn't look at her: her gaze wandered around the room where the only audible sound were Max's quiet sobs. 

The Caulfields +1 had a late dinner and once again, there wasn't much room for conversation: just the occasional request for food or a drink and some small talk between Max's parents once it was over. After dinner, Max went to take a shower so she could be at least decent (and maybe have another little breakdown in the privacy of her own bathroom). Chloe decided to use that brief time to snoop around her friend's room but quickly decided she wasn't in the mood for it and ended up sitting at the desk, looking out of the window at the moon. It kind of looked a bit off and Chloe got scared for a minute: what if Max's powers had changed the course of nature _forever_? What if she had rewound again? She worried for a bit, then remembered some news about an eclipse or something that she'd saw at a gas stop while on the way from Arcadia. _Well, at least_ this time _the whole town isn't going to be wiped out of the map_ , she thought. 

Max returned to her shower already wearing her pajamas. As usual with her, it had some kind of cute animal drawn on it. Chloe could swear that, as far as nightwear was concerned, Max still dressed like she was 13. After five years, she was still Max Caulfield. 

It was Chloe's turn to get cleaned up a bit and get dressed in some clothes she'd brought with her from Arcadia. She couldn't help but notice they smelled a little bit like weed. _Hmm, they probably were in the same dresser as my 'medication'_ , she thought. _Better get them cleaned tomorrow. I don't wanna ruin the reputation I've built now_...  
When she got back, the light was on but Max was already asleep. Chloe got in bed and prepared herself for another sleepless night. As she laid in bed, her eyes wide open and her gaze fixing the ceiling, she heard Max's breath and for a moment felt envy towards her. At least she got to sleep, while she was facing another night of regrets.

* * *

_**I am dumbfounded for a moment. I find myself in a place I struggle to recognize, but at the same time I feel like I have been** _ _**here before. I am in the living room of a big house with an antique look; in front of me stands the kitchen: the two rooms are only divided by a half wall. A big grandfather clock is marking the time so loudly that it looks like it's coming from my head. My head is marking the time so loudly that it looks like it's coming from a big grandfather clock. I look around, struggling to understand what to do in this unknown yet familiar space: a fireplace, a vinyl record player, some kind of statuette. The statuette looks back at me, its face suddenly contorted in horror. I turn my sight away, my face suddenly contorted in horror. On the other side of the house, a stairway and a closed door. Somehow, I know I have to go through that door.** _

_**I look at the pin pad and I know right away how to get past the locked door. As I enter the last digit of the code - 0311 - the door opens and I am through. I now find myself outside, in a junkyard I know all too well. And yet, I do not know where to go. I stand there waiting for a sign but all I can hear was silence. Then, as if pulled by invisible strings, I start to walk around the junkyard, past a broken down shed and an old rusty school bus, until I am exactly where I needed to be. In front of me, a hole has been dug in the ground, empty as all of the space around. Suddenly, I hear a voice call from behind.** _

_**"Chloe"** _

_**Rachel Amber stands there, smiling and beautiful: a bluejay feather hangs from her left ear and she is dressed in her usual fashion, flannel shirt and all. Yet, it is her smile that steals all of my attention. It is beautiful, it is shiny, it is** _ **alive** _**; I'm unable to move my gaze away from it, and all of a sudden I feel my own body move without my control. I see myself walk a few steps behind, towards the hole.** _

_**thesmilethatsmilethesmilesmilethatsmilesmilesmilesmile** _

_**I can hear Rachel's silken voice: "Chloe, get in there". I cannot resist that smile.** _

_**thatsmilethesmilethatsmilesmilethatsmilesmilesmilesmile** _

_**I keep walking backwards, scared but sure at the same time. I can't help but look at the smile.** _

_**Backwards. The smile. Backwards. That smile. .sdrawkcaB** _

_**elimselimselimselimstahtelimselimsehtelimstahtelimseht** _

_**.eloh eht otnI .sdrawkcaB .sdrawkcaB .sdrawkcaB .sdrawkcaB** _

_**Backwards. Into the hole.** _

_**And then it all went dark.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note, April 23rd. 
> 
> Again, some slight changes to the nightmare sequence.
> 
> As usual, any appreciation or critique is very welcome
> 
> Love you :)


	9. Seattle

And then it all went dark.

* * *

And then all was light. All was sound. All was smell. All was warm and familiar for a moment, but then it all got cold again. 

It took Max a couple of seconds to regain consciousness of where she was. In Seattle. At home. In her bed. Not alone. Chloe was sleeping next to her: alive, clearly _not_ ok, but alive. Knowing that she'd made this, the happiness and the price she paid, was both her light and her dark, her cold and her warm. Knowing that Chloe was there, hearing her breath, feeling her body drag up and down the bedsheets... somehow it made Max feel that despite everything -every _one_ \- she had to sacrifice, in the end it could all be worth it. 

But the doubts kept sinking deep into her conscience. How could it really be worth it? Almost a hundred dead, almost a hundred families destroyed... Joyce, gone. Was Chloe worth all that? Max tried to keep those thoughts away but they kept coming at her and she didn't have the strength to sway them all away. Even in the stubborn certainty she kept repeating to herself, she couldn't help but feel doubts.  
By now, Max knew deep down what she felt for Chloe, but for some reasons she couldn't bring herself to admit it to herself, let alone Chloe. _What if she didn't reciprocate? What if she still loved Rachel? What if she was mad for Joyce? Not like she didn't have any right to be_.  
And yet, it was those little signals that still gave her hope. The way Chloe held her hand, almost automatically, when they faced some danger. The hugs when she had a breakdown. Maybe, just maybe, they meant something?

She got up as quietly as she could, sneaking up from the end of the bed because she was trapped between Chloe and the wall, closed the door to her room and went downstairs to get some breakfast. It wasn't like she was really hungry, of course; it was more of an automatic reflex. She heard the house was silent apart from the ticking of the clock in the corridor and some occasional snoring from her parents' room. 7.13. _Everyone must be still asleep_ , she thought, _that's great. I'm not sure I want to talk_.

She got into her dining room and was greeted by the slightly annoying surprise of finding her mother sitting at the table, reading some magazine with a cup of coffee in front of her. Vanessa raised her head and her gaze met her daughter's. 

"Hey honey" said Vanessa, "did you sleep well?"

Max lied. Vanessa saw right through it. 

"Maxine... I can't imagine how hard it must have been to see that storm..."

_No shit, Mum_

"If you need anything, you can tell us. And I mean _anything_ " she said, stressing that last word. 

Max imagined she would be referring to the Dark Room. _Maybe my parents think I was brought down there by... -_ she couldn't even think about his name, it would make her sick _\- I mean, I technically was, but... no, at least, not in this timeline_.  
For a moment, she considered telling her everything. The bathroom, that first rewind, the storm. The two moons, the party, Kate's suicide attempt. She considered telling her mother about the time travel. After all, she could prove it... or could she? She hadn't rewound ever since... that. And she sure as hell didn't want to rewind again.   
In the end, she decided that her time travel abilities could only be a bad move. 

So she just nodded and leaned on her mother's shoulder, sinking into her warm embrace. The affection of her mother somehow lifted all of her burdens for a few seconds.

Then a noise came from upstairs when a door closed quite loudly. Max and Vanessa exchanged a glance: Ryan never closed their bedroom's door when he woke up, so it must have been Chloe. And indeed it was her, entering the kitchen a few moments later with the face of someone who had slept waaaay less than needed. The three exchanged some conversation before Vanessa went to make breakfast for the two girls.

* * *

October 30th, 2013

The girls were walking around Seattle. Max wasn't really in the mood for a tour but Chloe had insisted they should try and do something in order to at least distract themselves for some time, so she had taken her friend around showing the most important sights of a city she'd lived in but still didn't know as deeply as she should have.  
They took a bus from Max’s house in the suburbs and headed downtown; from there, they went on foot: the Space Needle (of course), Lake Union, Pike Place, then Downtown. After that Max absolutely wanted to show Chloe the Central Library, given that it was probably the place in Seattle she'd spent the most time in, after her house and school and just before the Thunderbirds arena. 

The blue-haired girl was hungry so they stopped to eat something in a café near Marion - which Max described as "cool" and Chloe found pretentiously hipster. They were walking towards the Library when a voice called from behind:

"Max? Maxine Caulfield?"

Max recognized the voice but Chloe was the first to turn around when she heard the voice. Somehow it had triggered that instinct of protection that she felt towards her friend, even if she'd saved her way fewer times than the other way around. Anyway, she turned around to meet a girl, slightly shorter than Max, with a dark brown ponytail. Max turned too, and saw the smiling girl in front of her. She wasn't entirely sure how to greet her: they had been quite good friends in her five years in Seattle, but they hadn't talked since she moved away. _Typical Max Caulfield. You forget your friends as soon as you move somewhere else..._

In the end, after a slightly embarrassed half second, she took a couple of steps towards the girl and smiled quite sincerely. 

"Hi Kristen! It's, uh... it's been a while"

"Max! I knew it was you! I could recognize your satchel everywhere!" - Kristen was clearly unfazed by Max's lack of communication in the last months. "It's been a while, you're right! I meant to write you as soon as I saw the news about your hometown but... I was a bit scared, I guess? I'm sorry I haven't reached out sooner". The girl seemed genuinely sorry, but Max dismissed it. After all, she was the one that didn't text her friend in months. 

"I'm so happy you're ok" Kristen said after they had exchanged another couple formalities, "I can't wait to tell Fernando that you're back in town! We should totally hang out again! By the way," she added looking towards Chloe who had since been a silent audience to the conversation, "who's your friend here?" She stuck out a hand, adding "my name is Kristen".

"Uh... Chloe", the punk answered, slightly embarrassed, while she shook Kristen's hand. 

"Of course!" Kristen said with an exaggerated emphasis, "of course! Max told us a lot about you, about your friendship back in Arcadia!"

"Uh... she did?" Chloe was actually surprised, and somewhat disappointed, with that. Max could talk about her with her friends but she couldn't call her once in five fucking years?

The three girls exchanged some small talk before parting ways, not without Kristen not-so-subtly insisting until Max promised her they would go out with Fernando in the coming days. The hipster was actually relieved by Kristen's enthusiasm: she clearly wasn't disappointed with her for her distance in the last months, although to be fair it had only been a couple of months, and not five years. Then again, the thought of trying to reconnect with her and Fernando - probably the only close friends she had in Seattle - somewhat scared her. What if they were different? What if they didn't like how different she clearly was? What if they didn't like Chloe? What if Chloe didn't like them?

Right now, the blue-haired was the center of her thoughts, but what harm could it do to try and get a coffee with two friends and Chloe? _A lot_ , she thought, _but in case it all goes to shit and we all end up arguing, I still have... no! No way I'm going to rewind_ ever _again!_  
Max actually felt surprised. She had pleaded she wouldn't use her rewind anymore after all of the mess that it - that _she_ had caused. And yet there she was, once again planning on using it for shit like avoiding an argument. _There you are_ , she thought scolding herself. _Still the same old Max. I'm disappointed but not surprised_. 

At the public library the two girls spent hours around books. It was mainly Max who led the way, with Chloe following her around - _her faithful companion and chauffeur_ \- but the older girl had seemingly a newfound interest in science books, which amused and made Max proud of her at the same time.

In the days after the storm, Chloe had spent a lot of time alone, thinking and thinking and thinking about her Mom and Dad, about David, about Max, about Rachel, about herself. She realized that her rage, the fire that had burned inside her for the last five years had finally burned out. Chloe did not feel defeated, just... tired. And she felt useless. A feeling she had experienced again in the central library looking at her friend. Max was standing there, despite all of what _only_ she had seen ever since that day at Blackhell, probably broken but definitely not bent: Chloe realized she had to be strong for her. 

The two girls were standing in an aisle of the science section, where Max looked a bit lost. Chloe was looking at some books on physics and all of that crap that Max never could understand when she suddenly turned around and looked at her friend with a dead serious look.

"Max. I need to do something with my life. Get my shit together. I'm useless right now."

"Chloe... what...? Where did that come from?". For a second, Max sincerely feared Chloe was leaving her, despite all that she'd done for her. That wasn't obviously the case. 

"I mean that I'm a high school dropout with no family whatsoever, no home and no job. I appreciate what you're doing to help me, but I can't sleep in your bed forever. We've been here for, like, a week, and you're already meeting old friends and trying to study and shit. I don't wanna freeride on you and your folks."

"Chloe... that's... good, I guess?"

"I sure hope so. Dude, I'm a mess..." Chloe laughed bitterly. 

On the bus ride home they discussed their short term plans, the first serious talk they had ever since leaving Arcadia Bay. Max still needed to graduate and then do something: _do what?_ , she thought; _get into a good photography program_ , Chloe thought; the Blackwell had set up some online classes so she was gradually going back to her studies.  
Chloe decided she would try and get a GED, with Max's help (after all, she hadn't been studying in like three years) and then get some kind of job and basically hope for the best. It wasn't the grandest plan, the two girls conceded, but they were together. Despite their fears and insecurities, they knew they would succeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm asking you once again, if you liked this chapter or this fic, to consider commenting and/or leaving kudos :)
> 
> Also, I'm interested in any kind of suggestions you might have!
> 
> Love you :)


	10. Revelations I

November 22nd, 2013

"Ugh... I... don't feel too well... Oh I'm gonna puke", Fernando announced, before proceeding to turn around and do so in the back alley of the pub they had been in the whole evening. 

"Dude, you are the same as always! Three beers and you're on your knees", Max teased. 

"Says the girl who's... not even drinking beer at 18!" he replied, catching his breath mid-sentence.

"First of all, I do NOT like beer" the hipster replied, "then, we're not even supposed to be drinking underage". The remark sparked some laughter by her peers, clearly uninterested in the fact that they were, effectively, breaking laws. "And finally, I'm not the one who gets drunk every time we go out. I never got drunk!"

"Maybe you should, Max", Chloe chimed in, earning a disapproving look from her best friend. The idea was immediately picked up, though, by Kristen and Fernando, who was finished with his puking routine. 

The four had been hanging out together a few times then. Chloe was skeptical at first, but conceded meeting Max's old friends in Seattle couldn't hurt, and even if Chloe had felt out of her element the first times, they had started to develop a friendship. She felt like she was managing to blend in somehow, and despite the general geekiness of Max's friends they were able to find some common ground. The punk had never said it, but she was glad that Max had insisted so much just a couple of weeks before to bring her along: Kristen and Fernando were fun guys and she was happy to have someone to call friends. 

Once the night was over, they all got back to the respective homes. It had been a fun night, and Chloe was happy to distract herself from her constant routine: studying for her GED, helping Max with anything she might need, a bit of "scientific research" in the Caulfields' backyard when the old ones weren't home. Ya know, for personal use only. Moreover, Max looked like she had fun, and had seemed genuinely happy during the whole night out.

Even though more than two months had passed from the storm, that was still a rare sight, and it had become slightly worse in the previous couple of weeks, after the girls had been called in the DA's office to make official statements on their homemade investigations that ultimately led to David's raid. At least they hadn't had to go back to Oregon ow, even worse, Arcadia Bay for a trial: there was already enough proof to put Jefferson away for good, and they couldn't bear the sight of that psycho; especially Max. 

Still, things looked like they were finally going to be better: the girls were busy with the respective studies, and Max had started to keep contact with a few friends from Arcadia, namely Kate and Warren, who were still in Oregon. Chloe was confident their luck was finally turning. _If only she would start to take photos again..._ , she thought. 

Laying in bed with the lights turned off, the girls talked for a moment:

"Thanks for the night out, Max"

"Thank you, Chloe. I mean it. It's been such a good evening! I'm glad I'm still seeing Kristen and Fernando, and I'm so happy that you like them"

"They're fun guys. I'm glad you insisted so much. I think I need some friends right now."

"What, am I not enough now?" Max joked. "Color me unimpressed"

"You know what I mean, you dork"

The young women joked and laughed a little bit more, something they hadn't been doing often lately, and went to sleep smiling. _Finally, for once, everything is good_ , Max thought before falling asleep.

* * *

**_Black. White. Grey. Lightning. Thunder. Wind, so strong that it makes me fall. So strong that it sends boats flying. So strong that it tears down houses._ **

**_I can barely stand, yet I steadily make my way, following a ghostly doe up a path that leads to a lighthouse. A perfect vantage point to be safe, to see what I have done. To touch with my own hands the consequences of my choices._ **

**_As I walk with fatigue in my body and sorrow in my mind I try to turn back but I can't. I have already written my destiny and yet I cannot bear the thought of what is waiting for me. Sometimes I have to take matters into my own hands, to raise an arm to twist and mold how the reality plays out around me. I have Time in my hands and yet I cannot change the future for I already did it._ **

**_Each time I pull the rope in this tug of war with the very fiber of physical existence, everything around me retreats, as if tracing back their exact steps to come back where it comes from; everything but the Storm. No matter how much I pull, how far behind I try to bring it, no matter the world I am trying to shape, the Storm makes its way, fierce and steady, towards Life, to turn it into Death.  
_ **

**_I have reached the lighthouse. My body is safe. My soul is in ruins. I can see the storm approach the pier, the streets, the houses, safe from my distance. But suddenly I can hear, too. The wind makes no sound: all I can hear are screams, pleas, terror and fear. The Storm eats up Arcadia Bay and I can hear the voices of its people. Their last words._ **

**_I am there with them and yet I am alone in the safety of my position. I cannot pay the dues for my choices with my body, therefore I must pay them with my mind, with my soul._ **

**_Those voices I recognize call for me. They call my name, they ask me to stop it. And yet, no matter how much I try, the Storm still advances. I can only prolong their suffering. I cannot do anything, for I have already done everything by choosing._ **

**_So all I can do is watch and listen as my name is called. The Storm is over. Its thirst of Death quenched. The town is silent, for there are no more voices that can call for me. Yet I hear my name coming from behind me. I turn, and no one is there. The voice is still behind me, rising higher and higher, further and further into the sky._ **

**_"Max... Max... Max..."_ **

* * *

"Max! Max! Can you hear me? Please, tell me something, anything!"

"Chloe! Oh, Chloe..."

"Max, what happened?" the blue-haired punk asked, her tone worried as ever. Of course, she knew perfectly well what had happened. 

"Chloe, I had another nightmare... it felt so - so real, Chloe"

"What? Like another vision?" Chloe managed to keep her tone of voice down in order not to wake up Max's parents.

"No, I saw it... I saw it again... it destroyed everything!"

Max sobbed for a moment while Chloe, left speechless, tried to comfort her with her body and her warmness.

"Chloe..." Max sobbed. "I'm sorry"

"We already talked about it, it's not your fault, okay? You couldn't do anything!"

"I could hear them, Chloe! I could hear their voices! They were calling for me and I couldn't help them! I let them all die, Chloe! I killed them!" Max was starting to lose it: still lying in her bed, in total darkness, with Chloe holding her as if she feared she would disappear, she started to repeat she was sorry. 

"I'm sorry, Chloe! I'm sorry! I killed them, I killed Joyce! Chloe, I'm so, so sorry!"

"Max, you didn't, they died in a storm!" the punk tried to reply but Max looked like she just wasn't listening.

"I killed your mum!"

"You saved me!"

"I'm sorry... I let them die... I'm so ---" 

Max's words were finally cut off by Chloe's lips. She pressed them against Max's and held them there for as long as she could, a sweet kiss that lasted an eternity and yet not enough. 

"Chloe..."

"Max - no, Max, let me speak." the elder demanded with a sweet yet firm voice, and the youngest nodded silently. "I can't imagine what you're going through but I want you to remember that I do NOT blame you. For anything, alright?"

"Chloe, I let them all die... I killed your Mum..."

"No, you didn't. You saved my life. More times than I can imagine, and in more ways than _you_ can imagine. I... I miss my Mum, of course. And I wish I wasn't such a shitty child to her. But I'm here and I will be forever grateful to you, okay?"

Max nodded in confirmation and Chloe continued her monologue. 

"Anything beats dead Max. Especially being here with you. I love you, okay? I think I have from the moment you came back in my life and... fuck, I'm getting all mushy here. Well, don't beat yourself up, okay? _Capiche?_ "

"Chloe, I... don't know what - I think this is a bit too much for me right now"

"It's alright, Max. Let's get some more sleep now."

The two girls hugged themselves until they both fell asleep again in each other's arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this goes from good, to bad, to good again. I love meself some cliché emotional rollercoasters!
> 
> If you love yaself them too, tell me! Kudos & comments are very welcome as usual :)


	11. Revelations II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really a two part chapter, it's just that the title fit them both quite well.
> 
> *insert shrug*

December 17th, 2013. 

The alarm sounded earlier that morning. Max and Chloe smiled at each other in the dim morning light that filtered through the shutters, and shared a sweet kiss.

A couple of days after _that_ night and _that_ kiss, the two girls had eventually talked about the big elephant in the room and recognized they were, in fact, in love with each other. It was surely a new feeling for Max, but Chloe felt like that too: even with Rachel, her feelings were not dominating her to such an extent.  
They officially agreed they were a thing, and went on just like before, only with added kisses here and there. But they couldn't keep it a secret from Max's parents for too long: they had thought long and hard about a time and a way to break the news that their daughter was coming out, engaged with a girl and that girl just happened to be her best friend who was living in their own house. Welp.

They had discussed it until the night before, when they had decided they'd tell them the following morning, taking advantage of the fact that Max's parents were both home: Vanessa had a flu and was recovering, and Ryan's boss let him stay at home because some sort of inventory procedure was going on at his workplace. They had set the alarm earlier so that they could discuss it one last time, and Max tried to muster up the courage to make that revelation to her parents. 

They walked downstairs and found Max's parents in the kitchen, intent on making breakfast and watching the news on the TV. After a bit of small talk the two girls, who were sitting at the table, opposite to the Caulfields and next to one another, twinned their hands under the table. That was their signal.   
Max felt anxious: she wanted to get that burden off her chest, but at the same time she was a bit embarrassed, and she feared her parents' opinion. She knew that they weren't really religious, and they probably wouldn't care at all who their daughter was dating, but still, that was an awkward situation, to say the least. 

_Ok, Max, you can do it. If they don't take it well, I can always... no, never. I'll never do that again. Never again_ , she thought.

Another gentle squeeze of her hand by Chloe, and she swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke:

"Mum, Dad? Can you listen to me for a second?"

"Everything ok, honey?" asked Vanessa with a preoccupied tone, while Ryan turned the TV volume down and focused on his daughter. 

"Yes, it's just..." Max stalled for a fraction of a second. She felt as if she was trying to tear down a wall with her bare hands. She drew a long breath. Then, she spoke.

"Me and Chloe are together. Like, dating", she spit out as if she was worried the words would be coming back down her throat again. 

A moment of silence followed the revelation. Chloe, who had not yet spoken, saw Max's face turn red and felt her own do the same. She couldn't quite understand if that was an embarrassed silence, if Max's parents were disapproving, or what else. 

Vanessa finally broke the silence after a couple of seconds that had felt like an eternity to Max. She could rewind time but she couldn't make it pass faster. How ironic.

"Oh, honey, it's great! I'm so happy for you girls!" she exclaimed with a sweet voice and a wide smile, then proceeded to circle around the table to embrace them in a collective hug that caught Chloe somewhat unprepared. 

"Good, I'm happy for you, Max!" said Ryan, turning the volume up again. "When are we going to meet her?" he joked, then turned his attention to the TV again. Even though he played uninterested, Max could see his smile. 

The girls had a particularly full breakfast that morning, as Vanessa was clearly in a good mood from the news, and in the mood for celebrating. Max and Chloe were relieved, and even a bit surprised, by the Caulfields' reaction to the news. Not like they were going to disapprove, but still... they were happily surprised.   
After that, now back upstairs in Max's ( _their!_ ) room, the two girls shared a long, sweet hug and a longer, sweeter kiss. Max's felt happy to see how Chloe's eyes lit up, even though she was acting tough as ever. 

Finally, the punk spoke:

"That went... well, I think?"

"That went well, Chloe!" Max answered, smiling from ear to ear. "So, what are we going to do this morning? We definitely cannot do any homework, we deserve not to!"

"I see I'm a good bad influence, Max Caulfield! You're skipping class to be with me..." she teased with a smirk.

"I'd do _anything_ for you, you know that..." Max said, her look turning somber for a moment; she immediately lit up again: "and then again, it's not like online classes are real classes... and I can excuse myself, given that I'm an adult" she proposed, as if Chloe needed any convincing. Of course, she didn't. 

The hipster sat at her ( _their_ ) desk and turned on their laptop, looking for something she could do with her girlfriend (that sounded so well in her head!) that morning. Meanwhile, behind her back, Chloe was rummaging in her drawers, who knows what for.  
Max searched the internet for some inspiration: maybe they could go to that gallery... or should they go to that thai place they had seen the last time they were out with Kristen and Fernando? Or maybe they c---

_**A click. A flashing light behind her. Everything turned white hot for a fraction of a second.** _

Max's heart skipped a beat as she instinctively brought a hand to her wrist. She had her bracelets, but no duct tape. Then a whirring sound, and a presence manifested itself over her shoulders. 

"Did I scare you?" Chloe asked, placing Max's old instant camera on the desk.

"Just... just a bit" Max shyly admitted. 

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to... it's just... I think today is a great day and I wanted a picture. You haven't been taking any since... you know."

Max silently nodded. She felt like had lost her touch, her vision, her talent. Or had it ever been a talent? Maybe, she just wasn't that talented - if she was, she wouldn't have stopped taking pictures, would she?

"I really love your pictures. But this looks okay... to me", Chloe said, showing the polaroid to Max: a simple image, of Max's back and the window. It reminded the hipster of the picture she never submitted for the Everyday Heroes contest; showing her back, looking at photos: weren't they, in some way, windows to look through and see the world? 

Suddenly, she felt a physical urge. She picked up her old camera, the camera gifted to her by Chloe - by her girlfriend. She opened it, pointed its lens towards herself and Chloe, and shot.

* * *

The two girls sat at a table in some faux-vintage restaurant downtown, facing each other and holding hands over the table, chatting while waiting for their desserts to arrive, when Max's phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw it was her father, so she answered.

"Oh, really? Yeah, that's great! Yes, we're at a restaurant. Of course she will! Okay, see you later!"

"Ok, Max, what was it all about? _What is it_ that you're so sure I will do?"

"Oh, no big deal" Max answered happily. "It was my Dad, he said he's got some tickets for the Thunderbirds game tonight and asked if we'd come"

"Tickets for _the what_?" Chloe asked: for her, Max was speaking Arabic. 

"The Thunderbirds! Hockey team? You never saw the banner in my room?"

"You are taking me to a hockey game?!? Are you for reals?" Chloe asked in disbelief

"Come on, Chloe! It's going to be fun!" pouted the hipster. "It's fun, and they always fight"

"It's going to be hella lame"

Chloe proceeded to blatantly hang her head, but Max was adamant that the punk would come with her and her Dad to a hockey game that same evening. Finally, she was sold the idea - despite some doubts still lingering in her head - when told that it would be free (of course) and that the players would probably fight. _After all, violence has always been good entertainment_ , the blue-haired girl thought.   
And then, even if she would never admit it out loud in front of her (she had a reputation to defend!), she kinda wanted to go around and be seen with her girlfriend. She was proud of Max: all of that time travel shit, all of that death, the bad dreams... and still, she saved her, loved her, kissed her. And now she was - albeit slowly - starting to take pictures again. Since their selfie earlier that morning, she had taken another couple of pictures, and all included Chloe as the main subject. 

A few hours later, they were sitting in the stands of an almost full arena, watching the local Thunderbirds mauling some poor dudes who had traveled hours only to get beaten, in every sense possible. Chloe wasn't really into the game, but at least she was quite amused by Max and her father: they were really into it, jumping up and down (albeit Max showed much more composure than his father) for every goal - she could expect it from Ryan, who had always been interested in every sport, but the way Max was caught by the events on the field sincerely surprised her blue-haired girlfriend.

Suddenly, the hipster-turned-fan turned away from the rink and looked at the other girl with a delighted look. 

"So, are you enjoying it, Chloe?"

"I don't know, I think I'm enjoying my beer more" she replied, only partly sincere. "By the way, Ryan" she said, raising her voice, "thanks for buying me one!"

Max's Dad nodded in approval, still concentrated on the power-play situation. 

"C'moooon, Chloe!" Max replied. "It's been a great game, and we're absolutely battering them!" she said with an enthusiasm that caught Chloe unprepared once again.

"I'm freezing my ass off and I expected more blood and less play, but yes, I can admit it's not as boring as I thought it would be" said the punk, shrugging. 

"It's enough for me", Max replied happily, giving her girlfriend a quick, light kiss. 

"I didn't know you were into sports, though!"

"Well, it's not really _sports_... it's more about hockey. Do you remember sometimes I would go with Dad even back in Arcadia, when we were kids?"

"Come to think about it, I do. Seriously though Max, you should consider taking up a job as a hockey photographer or shit"

"And miss all the action? No w --- Oh, look at that!" she suddenly interrupted herself to point at a particularly hard body check. "Chloe, look, they're going to fight!" she told her companion.

"About time!" the older girl replied, raising her half empty beer in approval and taking a sip off it as the crowd started to cheer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're a fan of random Roman numbers, consider leaving a mark on this chapter! Kudos & comments are very welcome, especially any suggestions!


	12. The past comes knocking

December 21st, 2013

Max and Chloe were in the living room, on the couch. The blinds were closed, the lights off, and the TV showed a movie, Woody Allen's "To Rome with Love": the two girls had chosen it just over half an hour before, but were not watching it. 

Cuddling on the couch, they were kissing deeply, and their hands were exploring each other's bodies. Max's fingers were running through her girlfriend's blue hair and on her neck; meanwhile, the punk was kissing her in the very same place, caressing her back softly. As they exchanged yet another kiss, Chloe moved one hand all the way to her girl's stomach, gently rubbing it for a second; then, slowly but surely, she moved it under Max's shirt and upwards, making sure to feel every inch of her partner's skin under her fingers, until she reached her chest and caressed it, gently nibbling at the brunette's earlobe at the same time.   
The brunette experienced a somewhat unknown but definitely pleasant feeling, letting a quiet moan of pleasure go, and tightened her grip on Chloe's neck with one hand, while the other was feeling its way towards the punk's hips.   
The two lovebirds exchanged a deep look that spoke louder than a thousand words and shared another long kiss, their tongues interlocked in their mouths. Then, Chloe sweetly grabbed Max's hand and moved it towards her own shoulder blade, uncovering it from her tank top's straps; the two hands moved down together as if they were one, almost reaching Chloe's --

_**KNOCK KNOCK** _

Max was startled for a second and jerked back, as if she'd woken up from a trance.

"Jeez, thanks for the timing, dude!" Chloe said ironically, clearly unhappy about being interrupted just when thing were becoming fun. 

"We should go see who it is" said Max, while composing herself.

She looked at herself for a second, making sure it wasn't clear what they were doing, stood up and walked towards the front door. 

_**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK** _

"Coming!" she shouted while crossing the door from the living room to the corridor. 

"I bet you were..." muttered Chloe, grabbing her sweater from the floor and making sure she didn't look like someone who was just interrupted during... _business_ with their partner, then followed Max to see who it could be. 

_**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK** _

Max opened the door, with Chloe also arriving behind her. In front of the two girls stood another, slightly taller than Max, with tired green eyes and blonde hair, long enough to reach her shoulder and looking like they had not been cut in a couple of months.  
The two girls were stunned to see how Victoria Chase definitely looked like the ghost of her past self.

* * *

"So, how are you, Victoria?" Max asked the blonde, while handing her a cup of coffee. They were sitting on the very same couch that had served as Max and Chloe's love nest just five minutes earlier, but the atmosphere was notably different: the blinds were now open, letting in the grey light of that typical rainy winter day; the air, too, felt thicker, heavier on the three young women. 

"Oh, I'm great, Max, thanks!" Victoria replied ironically. "My town was destroyed by a fucking tornado, I've lost my parents, my home, I've lost friends... but everything's alright, yes" she added, with a bitter tone that sounded very much like the old Victoria, except it was much more tired; she actually had reasons to be pissed at Max: after all, the hipster knew her parents were dead, but this didn't stop Chloe from giving her a stern sideways glance. 

"I'm sorry" Max whispered in response, lowering her head and clutching her arm with her hand in her usual fashion. 

"No, _I'm_ sorry", her (former?) antagonist replied with a sigh. "It's not like you could do anything about that..." she added, which caused Max to swallow a big lump in her throat. 

"So... -" Chloe tried to break the few moments of embarrassed silence which had followed Victoria's words, but couldn't think of anything clever to say, which made the situation even more awkward. 

"I imagine you want to know why I showed up at your house 260 miles from my town" said Victoria with an assertive tone. 

"Well... yeah, that would be a start" the punk replied. 

"Well, first of all, I can't bear 'my town' anymore" she said, making sure to use air quotes. "And then, I have some shit to attend to at the gallery. Some problems with the will, and business partners of my folks that want to get it off my hands. As if I wanted to concentrate on this meaningless shit right now."

She let out an exhausted sigh, then continued: "so, I thought I might come by and check on you, say I'm sorry for all the shit I pulled in your few weeks at Blackwell. Figured since we all had to bury someone, we might as well bury the hatchet. By the way, I heard about your mother", she told Chloe, "and I'm sorry. Like, for real. I know you might not believe me after... well, everything I did with me being a bitch and all, but believe me, I don't have the strength to be like that anymore". 

"I believe you" Chloe answered with a whisper. "And I'm sorry for your parents, too".

"Yes", she said coldly. "Anyway, how you holding up?"

Chloe and Max exchanged a glance, unsure about what to tell Victoria. Should they tell her that they were together? She probably wouldn't care, or maybe that'd make her feel even worse, knowing that people around her were kinda healing and able to love again, while she was clearly in a bad place. 

In the end, Max spoke. After all, she was the one that knew her best - Victoria and Chloe hadn't been talking in years, and they weren't exactly best friends, as far as she knew. 

"We... are kinda fine, I guess?"

"I'm glad you are" the blonde answered, again with a sharp, cold tone. Then she mellowed it a bit and continued. "I mean, I really am. As I said, I want to bury the hatchet"

"We do, too" Max answered with a sweet but sad tone. "I mean, it's not like we're suddenly all happy and everything is in the past but... we try to hold up."

"Yeah, we're still having some problems sleeping and all," Chloe said, "but being here is better than down there", and she shrugged. "We're going out sometimes, we're both studying... we're trying to get everything back to normal"

"Does it work?" asked Victoria. 

"I guess?" Max said.

Chloe inserted herself back in the conversation. "We've been having real trouble at night. For a long time", she added. "And for some reason Max feels guilty, even though she _obviously_ isn't" - she was clearly talking to Max, rather than Victoria. 

"Yeah, I can relate", the former Vortex Club leader interjected, again with her cold tone, but clearly tinged with sadness. 

"Yeah, I think everyone can. Survivor's guilt or some shit. But we ain't guilty, so let's stop this shit once and for all, okay?"

The other girls nodded in agreement.

"You know..." Victoria said after a brief silence. "You're lucky to have one another. You're good friends and - I mean, I'm a bit envious, is all. I know it's kinda shit to be, and I know I should still have Taylor but... we haven't been talking a lot, since the storm and Courtney... well, I just wish I had a friendship like yours right now."

Max and Chloe exchanged another glance, unsure whether to tell her or not. Finally, Chloe spoke with an embarrassed tone.

"Uhm... while we're at it, I think we should know that... we are together", and she shrugged again. 

"Oh, good for you!" Victoria answered, and for once her tone seemed sincerely happy. "I mean, finally, you looked like you were flirting since I first saw you together, so..." 

"So... how about you, Victoria?" Max asked, swiftly changing the subject of the conversation. 

The blonde puffed. "So, how about me? To be fair, I've been shit, Max. I mean, I even considered killing myself but at this point I don't even think I have the strength to do that." Max winced clearly, once again hurt by the feeling of guilt. "I lost everyone. I lost literally everyone. My parents are dead. My friends are either dead, or not my friends anymore. My Nathan is... was a criminal. Yes, I... disliked Rachel, but still, she didn't have to go like that."

"Tell me about it" Chloe interrupted her for a second, sarcastically.

"I know. And I'm sorry. Really." Victoria answered, looking right in the eyes of the punk, who nodded. "And you know what makes me sick? _Literally_ sick? That I fucking revered that murdering asshole Jefferson.

Max winced visibly just hearing the name. She had tried to forget about him, about what he represented - most importantly, about what he had represented before everything went to shit - but she still saw her in her sleep. And even though Max knew that it was just an image projected by her mind, she still felt like it was real. And sometimes Max would find herself rubbing her wrists upon waking up, as if she was really tied to a chair in the Dark Room.

”Victoria...” she said, “don’t feel guilty. We all revered him, we couldn’t know...”

”I could know!” Victoria shouted. “I knew Nathan! He was my friend! And he was neck deep in that shit”

”Max is right, Victoria. You all couldn’t know shit about that dickhead. Case closed”

”Tell that to my nightmares...” was the response from the blonde. “Anyway, I didn’t want to bring that shit up. It’s just... I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, I - I can’t bear to do that online lessons shit, even less going back to Arcadia Bay... so right now I’m focusing on keeping those fucking vultures off my parents’ gallery. Not like I give a fuck, but it’s the last thing I have left from them”

”If we can help in any way, Victoria...” Chloe said, “- not like I know how to, come to think of it”, she added.

”Thanks, really. But no. Their old partner Jessica is helping me with the will and the gallery. Besides, you already have your shit to deal with”

In the end, they talked a lot, each one crying and reassuring the others: they told Victoria about their weeks in Seattle, being girlfriends, getting back in touch with old friends, but also the nightmares and the panic attacks.

"You know..." Victoria said, "I have written a letter to Kate. And we talked briefly on the phone"

"Really?" asked Max. "We have been keeping in touch but she didn't tell me"

"Yeah. I just told her the truth, that I was sorry for everything I had done to her, for putting her up on that roof - I fucking hate myself!" she shouted to end the sentence. She then continued with a colder tone. "Of course, she has forgiven me. She said she's been praying for me. But I can't seem to do that"

"Alright" Chloe said, seeing the mood in the room was at an all time low. "Enough with the self-pity guilt trips. You two have no responsibility in what happened, ok? It happened, let's stop it right now. You - _we_ can't keep blaming ourselves"

Max and Victoria agreed and the conversation shifted to a different subject.

When she left a couple of hours after arriving, she even went as far as hugging, albeit briefly, the two girls, saying she'd be in Seattle indefinitely and promising she'd come again. 

Chloe closed the door behind Victoria and turned to Max with a surprised look and a sigh.

"Where the hell did that come from? That wasn't the Victoria I knew... hey, are you okay?" she asked, looking worriedly at her girlfriend's sad face.

"It's... Chloe... I..."

"Max!" the punk interrupted, "do not even start! It's not your fault! We went through this so many times, please stop guilt-tripping yourself!"

"I know... it's just... thanks" Max concluded with a sob, then buried her face in Chloe's shoulder and cried, while the punk encompassed her in a tight hug and talked to her in a soothing, whispering tone. 

They broke the hug a few moments later, and Max sniffed, then planted a light kiss on Chloe's lips. They went back to the living room and on the couch. None of them was in the mood to continue their morning adventures, so they just cuddled and finished watching the movie. They liked it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
> 
> *LiS2 POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT*
> 
> \---  
> \---  
> \---  
> \---  
> \---  
> \---  
> \---  
> \---
> 
> It is *almost* confirmed in LiS2 that Victoria's parents are dead (you know, the letter and all that). Frankly, I think it's kinda bullshit (they own a gallery in Seattle, why the hell would they still live in Arcadia?) but I want this to be as canon compliant as possible (apart from the insane amount of deaths which I have decided to trim down to a hundred or so because yes I have) so I'm sorry, Mr. and Ms. Chase, you're gone now. RIP.
> 
> Also, the 1st part of the chapter is probably the horniest you're gonna get from me. Sorry, dudes and dudettes. Please consider leaving kudos or commenting anyway :)


	13. Holiday, oh holiday!

January 3rd, 2014

_Holiday, oh holiday, and the best one of the year..._

The hi-fi in Max's room was shuffling music out of her USB key and the brunette found herself humming the melody of the song while doing her ( _their_ ) bed, when Chloe entered the room, opening the door with her hip as she was holding a box full of festive decorations, already taken down in Max's house. She was helping the Caulfields in keeping the house orderly - it was something she'd never done, back in Arcadia Bay, but she was a changed girl now. 

_Dozing off underneath my sheets while I cover both my ears..._

"Dude! What is this hippie bullshit?" the punk asked Max while laying the box on her desk. "Ain't you got any actual music?" - okay, maybe she didn't change _completely_. 

"As if you didn't know what my playlist is made up of!" laughed the younger girl, "How many times have we listened to it in the last week? Twenty?"

"That sure felt like a million" said Chloe, rolling her eyes and stretching her body on the chair and over the desk to reach a particularly sticky Christmas decoration. While she was in that position, she felt Max hug her waist from behind and rest her head on her back. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and thought she could live in that particular moment forever... hadn't her balance been so precarious. 

"Max, this is great and I love you, but I'm going to fall out of the window", she laughed, eliciting a small apology from the brunette. She finally managed to get that decoration off the window and returned to solid ground, planting a light kiss on Max's lips before leaving the room with the same box, fuller than before.

 _I love you..._ Max thought. That still felt awkward to her, in a completely positive and heartwarming way. To say their story was a peculiar one was an understatement, but despite everything Max wouldn't have changed _almost_ anything.   
Of course, even though almost three months (that's a quarter of a year! wow!) had passed, she still felt guilty like the first day, and she still had nightmares more often than not. But she had Chloe. That was worth every kind of suffering. _Even other people's?_ , she found herself thinking, but managed to shoo that morbid thought away. Her bed was finally made, the Captain was still on it, a stable pillar of her life, and next to it, on the drawer, a duly folded sheet of wrapping paper, which reminded her of Christmas Day, just a week or so before.

* * *

December 25th, 2013

The alarm sounded and Max jolted awake as she would always do on Christmas Day. Even now that she was an adult, Christmas was still a special day for her: the atmosphere, the presents, dinner with her parents... and this year, for the first time in ages, she would spend it with Chloe. Her best friend and girlfriend; the person she loved.   
With these thoughts in mind, she proceeded to wake said girlfriend up by tickling - not really gently, to tell the truth - her sides. 

"Dude, why did you do it?" the punk asked. "I was still dreaming!"

"Oh yeah?" teased Max, "what were you dreaming?"

"I was dreaming... hot dudes. Football players"

"Oh is that what you want?" the younger girl pouted, faking disappointment. 

Chloe nodded with a sly smile on her face. 

"Well, in that case... I'll learn how to play!"

"Would you, though?"

"Probably not. But at least I'd learn how many players are there on the field!"

The two girls laughed and hugged for a moment before Max insisted they went downstairs and had breakfast, which they did, making just enough noise to "accidentally" wake up her parents and force them to come down and start the whole unwrapping presents thing.   
That was a strategy Max had perfected over the years, and was now definitely unsurprising, but it still worked like a charm. 

A few minutes later the Caulfields +1 were in the living room, unwrapping presents. Vanessa had already unwrapped hers, a small golden necklace, and Ryan was excitedly trying on his brand new Trail Blazers jersey.  
Then, Chloe's turn came: she opened up a small, soft packet only marked with her name and a stickman with a neutral expression, which was undoubtedly Max's signature; the brunette had gotten her a blue hoodie with an orange wolf drawn on it with the word "squad", which she immediately loved. Max had bought it with the last bits of the money she had gotten for her birthday.   
Finally, Max unwrapped two boxes: one, from her parents, contained a few packets of film for her Polaroid; in the other, from Chloe, contained a necklace with one bullet, exactly identical to Chloe's.

At the same time, the punk took out her own necklace; on it, a single bullet. She clutched it in her hand, holding Max's with the other, and thought about a few days before, when she threw the third one in the Lake Washington. For Rachel.

* * *

December 31st, 2013

Max and Chloe exited the house party in the Seattle suburbs for a moment. They were spending the New Years Eve at some cousin of Fernando's whose parents were away, and who had invited him along with any friends he might have: there were about 25 people at the party, including the two Oregonians, Fernando and Kristen, but none were really worth remembering. They were having fun though, but decided they needed a minute away from all the people, all the noise, all the smoke and alcohol.

Chloe struggled a bit with her jacket's zipper but ultimately managed to get it up; after all, she had drunk some beer; no weed, though: even though she was offered some, she had refused. She needed to be better, for herself and for Max. She puffed some air out of her mouth, thinking about how the air resembled smoke from a cigarette; she had cut down on them, too, but hadn't been able to stop smoking completely. She wondered for a moment if that should have been her resolution for 2014, but decided against it: she needed her smoke every now and then, and Max wasn't complaining that much about the occasional smoke breath. 

The two girls sat on the pavement in front of the house, listening to the muffed sound of pop music and laughs coming from the house, both silent for a while as Chloe wrapped her arm around Max's shoulders; the hipster took advantage and laid her head on Chloe's leather jacket, resting in that position for a moment. 

The punk lightly kissed the top of Max's head then spoke, her tone genuinely curious but not lacking a touch of melancholy.

"Do you remember what you were doing last year, at this time?"

"I was with my parents and uncle, playing cards... Kristen and Fernando all had something else to do, and as you may have noticed I don't have many friends" she answered, shrugging. "Welcome to Max Caulfield's exciting life"

"Dude! You can say _anything_ except that your life hasn't been exciting lately" 

"Point taken. What about you?"

"Uhhh... I don't remember much, I was smashed as shit" the punk recalled. "With Rachel", she added, with sadness visible on her face. 

"Do you still miss her much?"

"A lot. I mean, not as in I still love her or anything" she hurried to specify. "But sometimes, as a friend... you know, even if she lied to me, and maybe she even played me... she was still a friend, and a good one. And she didn't deserve to go like that."

"I'm sorry" Max whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"For what? You're the best thing that has happened to me since... well, since you left, so that makes you the best thing that has happened to me since yourself!" she laughed, while kissing the girl on her cheek.

"Thank you. I love you, Chloe. A lot" she said, with a serious tone. 

"I know. You showed it more than enough."

Behind them, the noise suddenly became clearer as the front door had clearly opened. Out came Fernando, drunk as a skunk. 

"Come on, ladies!" he slurred, "cut the mushy shit and come inside! Get drunk, for fuck's sake!"

As he went back inside, Chloe looked at Max and said he was right, then kissed her lips.

"I'm not getting drunk, though" the younger girl laughed as they re-entered the house. 

* * *

January 1st, 2014

The new year had just begun and Max and Chloe had just finished celebrating with their friends, witnessing Fernando throw his cousin on a pile of trash while trying to pop a bottle of off-brand champagne open. They exchanged the ritual greetings with everyone, then Max's phone started ringing with texts from many people.

 **Mom:** Happy New Year sweetie! To you and Chloe, from me and your Dad! Have fun and be responsible xoxo  
____

 **Kate:** Happy new year Max :) may you be blessed like your presence blessed me

 **Max:** Happy New Year to you too :))

 **Max:** Call you in the next days, okay? It's been too much

 **Kate:** Sure! Can't wait!  
____

 **Fernando:** yo maxc happy nww uear 

**Max:** Dude we r LITERALLY 10ft apart

 **Fernando:** o right

 **Fernando:** ssatadpatdI  
____

 **Max:** Happy new year Warren! Don't blow up with fireworks

 **Warren:** Hiya Max! Have a happy, healthy and P new year. Dr. Graham.

 **Max:** Wait. What was that P thing

 **Max:** ?

 **Warren:** P is the symbol for phosphorous.

 **Warren:** Phosphorous = prosperous.

 **Warren:** Science pun

 **Max:** GOD. 

**Warren:** Kek

Warren: Btw say hi to Chloe

 **Max:** She says hello  
___

All the while, Chloe's phone kept silent. Of course: the only meaningful person in her life who wasn't buried six feet in the ground in Arcadia Bay was Max, and - thankfully! - they did not need to exchange greetings by phone, because they were together. They always were.   
Still, she was kinda put down by the fact no one had texted her, and even though many people had told Max to greet her, they hadn't texted _her_ ; that disappointed her more than she cared to admit. 

A few minutes later, she was drinking another beer, resting with her back against the wall while she looked at Max making conversation with people, something they were both still having problems with, but it seemed the younger girl was making more progress than her girlfriend.  
Chloe laid back her head and closed her eyes, focusing on trying to cut off the noise from the room for a moment when she felt her pocket buzz. It was a text. While reaching for her phone, she wondered whoever it could have been. Curiously, she looked at the screen:

 **David Madsen:** Hi Chloe. Wish you a happy new year. I mean it. DM

 **Chloe:** thanks. u too, i mean it

 **David Madsen:** I know. Say hi to Max for me

The brief conversation left Chloe puzzled and divided: on one hand, it was good to see that despite everything, David still cared about her; on the other, she could tell he was still disappointed in her for bailing out of Arcadia Bay - and she, too, was disappointed in him for not understanding how much she needed to leave all that behind. 

As she seemed to space out, a song came on in the room to wake her up from her thoughts, and Chloe found it cool. She could swear she had already heard it somewhere, but couldn't remember where or when. She closed her eyes again and, without any thoughts, started to dance a bit on place,

_If anything like this ever struck you..._

While she listened to the song's catchy electronic beat she still couldn't shake that _deja vu_ feeling.   
Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her arm tightly. It was Max's: "Chloe?"  
  
 _Whatever you use, whatever you choose, w_ _hatever your acronym..._

The punk jolted up as she saw her partner had a scared look on her face.

"Max, is everything ok?" she asked worriedly

The hipster shaked her head. "This song... I remember it from the night..." she started to sob, "... the night of the Vortex Club party".

"Shit! I though I'd heard it somewhere else" muttered Chloe as she held Max's hand. "C'mon, let's get you out of here".

* * *

Almost half an hour later, Max finally nodded to Chloe. She was cool, she had calmed down, and she was ready to go back inside. Kristen and Fernando were probably getting worried.   
As they stood up, Max froze in place for a second and asked, "what if something is still fucked up? I still have those nightmares, and this song... I felt so..."; as she was starting to sob again, Chloe hugged her and soothed her with her voice and words. She told her it was perfectly normal, she had some form of PTSD, their psychiatrist had told them so. Those words, which weren't exactly reassuring, somehow managed to comfort Max and they kissed before heading back inside. 

Max hanged her coat, drew a big sigh and decided to make the most of the night out. She went to the kitchen, thinking to herself _fuck it!_ and grabbed a can of beer from the fridge. It was awful, but she needed it. Such a perfect metaphor for her life the past months. 

The night went on well and they came back home as the first lights of the dawn were appearing, hand in hand and smiling.  
 _Let this year be good_ , they both thought. None said it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're a fan of holidays please consider leaving kudos or a comment! Thanks!
> 
> Love you :)


	14. A moment of calm

January 28th, 2014

The two girls broke their kiss and Max rested her head on Chloe's chest, hearing her calm breath, and closed her eyes, sinking in the pleasure of her girlfriend's fingers gently going through her hair and massaging her scalp.   
Despite the heavy blanket, she felt cold, but she didn't want to get up and get dressed, and most importantly she didn't want to lose the feeling of Chloe's skin on her own, so she moved a bit in order to gain some more warmth from her girlfriend. Their bodies remained entangled, naked under the blankets, and silent.  
The late morning light was filtering through the blinds, and the microscopical specks of dust in the air looked like stars in the half-lit room. The two girls rested there, quiet after the beautiful storm they had gone through that morning, taking advantage of the fact Max had no classes and her parents were at work. 

Sex was still kind of a new thing for Max, even if they'd done it a few times by then, but she loved every bit of it: just like she loved every bit of Chloe. And there she was, resting her head on her girlfriend's bare chest, absorbing her warmth, lulled by her breath, thinking.   
The first time they'd done it had been a couple of weeks before or so. Max was scared: scared it would hurt, scared she wouldn't be good enough, scared Chloe wouldn't like it, scared _she_ wouldn't like it; but the moment their naked bodies had touched themselves the first time, lips locked, Chloe's hands guiding her through the whole thing and grazing her skin - in that moment, all of her fears were blown away, replaced by love, pleasure, and most importantly happiness.  
The next few times had been even better, even sweeter for Max, and Chloe seemed to like it just as much as her: that made the hipster happy as she hadn't been in a lot.   
___

Chloe's left hand was gently caressing Max's scalp, feeling her hair, just cleaned and yet already damp from the hipster's sweat. The right arm circled around her girlfriend's body, under her ribs and on her back, the hand laid to rest on the younger girl's hip. 

The punk basked in the silence while her felt her girlfriend's body shift over hers. She loved the way Max's skin felt on hers, the feeling of her hair over her chest, the memory of what they'd just done; she loved just equally the nothing they were doing there, just being together.

She looked around herself, at the ceiling and at the stickers on the wardrobe, at how the dim light reflected on them, making them all equally unrecognizable. She looked at the wall on Max's ( _their!_ ) bed, and at the polaroids covering it: most of them were old pictures, taken by Max in her younger years - but some of them were brand new. Max had started to take photos again, much to Chloe's pleasure. Although not yet as frequently as before, the Max Caulfield Photo Memorial Wall was gaining new "bricks".

Chloe realized Max had fallen asleep on her, and managed to suppress her own laughter to avoid waking the hipster up, then stretched her arm to pick up a couple of photos from the wall. One depicted an alley, completely anonymous and forgettable if not for a parked van, whose rear doors were painted with a very psychedelic pattern, which formed a very stark contrast with the grey walls and the asphalt. Chloe wondered when and where the picture had been taken: Max didn't have the habit of marking dates or locations on her pictures; of course, she would remember where, when and why she had taken almost all of her pictures, but for the other mere mortals, that made the Photo Memorial Wall an unfathomable mystery.  
The second picture was much more recent, and Chloe knew well everything about it: in fact, she had taken it: it was - or, rather, it should have been - a selfie of the two girlfriends, which they had taken in a park one particularly sunny day just a couple of days before. It was definitely a bad picture: the framing was terrible, with half of Max's face out of the shot, and the backlighting made their faces dark, but Max had insisted to put it up along with all of her beautiful photos, because it was Chloe's first picture. 

She put the pictures back up as Max woke up with a groan from her quick nap and kissed her lightly on the lips.  
After a couple of minutes, the younger girl sat up on the bed and announced she would go take a shower. As she stood up and left the room, Chloe took advantage to look again at her body: she could tell Max was not yet completely comfortable with being naked around her, but still there she was: the punk found her beautiful, and got lost in her own thoughts for a moment; she realized it still felt awkward, though in a beautifully sweet way, to get physical with Max. After all, Max's relationship with her was certainly a one-of-a-kind: from best friend, to MIA, to life saver, to girlfriend. And now, they were making love, too: it still felt unreal, but the sweat on her skin and the messy blankets proved it was all real. 

Chloe got up and got dressed, taking the time to notice how the few months spent at Max's had changed the landscape in her ( _their!_ ) bedroom. It was messy, of course - although, for Chloe's standards and compared to her old room back in Arcadia Bay, it looked like a suite at the Grand Hotel - and a small table had been forced by Ryan in the last empty corner, so that it could be used when the desk was occupied. Max's hi-fi was now sitting next to Chloe's snow globe on the dresser, which, along with the wardrobe, now housed the punk's clothes too. A few more pictures and a couple of new posters had appeared, which the two girls had bought in Seattle.  
In a corner, half hidden by the desk, Chloe had left a box with the personal stuff she had taken from Arcadia Bay. In her first few weeks in Seattle, she had spent many moments alone, looking at any one of the things that reminded her of her past, of her Mom and Dad, of Rachel, rushing to put them back away when she heard Max coming back; more recently, though, she felt herself going through her old stuff less and less frequently: could it be a sign that she was healing? Surely, she still had some trouble sleeping, but at least during the day she was feeling better every day. 

The door opened, awakening her from her own thoughts, and Max came in after her shower. She kissed Chloe then got dressed, and the two girls got engaged in way more boring activities. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Long time no see, I was struggling a bit with inspiration if I may confess.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! I tried to convey the sweetest part of sex in a relationship, the love, the mutual feelings that drive the erotic part of love.  
> I believe there are already enough people who are able to describe the act, and way better than me - I want to walk around it, graze it, never fully getting into it!
> 
> Please consider leaving comments and perhaps kudos, it's free!
> 
> Love you :)


	15. 2/14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’m back from the dead, I suppose. Been a difficult time for everyone and for me, too. I have something on my mind, not sure how to get it done though. For the moment here’s one chapter. Hope you enjoy it

February 14th, 2014

Max looked at herself in the mirror, feeling a bit anxious. It wasn't like she and Chloe hadn't gone out together before but still, that was their first Valentine's day together and she did not really know about Chloe, but that was a first ever for her.

She was trying out a few outfits for the special night out, unconvinced about each and every one; she owned very few dresses, and none seemed appropriate to her: this was too casual, that was too formal, and that other one was too short for the mid-February cold - _although_ , she thought, _I'm sure Chloe would love this one_.  
On the other hand, though, she couldn't rely on her daily casual t-shirt and jeans combination: she was sure her girlfriend wouldn't mind, but she thought Chloe deserved a special look. She found a blouse she didn't remember wearing in the last two years at least, but couldn't find a jumper to match it: in that moment, she cursed the fact she was shorter and skinnier than her mother, from whom she never could borrow anything. On second thought, though, she decided it would be better that way: her Mom had a lot of qualities, but she always thought her fashion choices were... questionable. Not that she was an expert on that matter, anyway. 

In the end, she decided that old blouse still suited her well enough, and paired it with some black velvet trousers and a brand new denim jacket she had bought just a few days before while at the mall with Vanessa. She finally got dressed and as soon as she was finished she heard a knock on the door, and Chloe popped her head in past the door, her hair wet.

"Max, I - oh, shit, you're hot!" she said.

Max had spotted her guilty face, though, and put her hands on her hips while faking an annoyed face. "Chloe, what are you hiding behind those compliments?", she asked. 

"Uhhh... I'm afraid we're going to be a bit late" she gestured to her head. She had decided to dye her hair again as the blue had faded almost completely, leaving her hair a strange mixture of brown, green and sky blue. But, clearly, she had underestimated the fact that the added length of her hair, which by then had almost reached her shoulders, would mean a longer process.   
Max blatantly facepalmed, as the other girl raised her hands to apologize.

"You could help me dry my hair while I get dressed" the older girl proposed. Max obliged and proceeded to do so: in the process, she sometimes stopped to run a hand through her girlfriend's hair. She liked how they had grown, and they reminded her of the younger Chloe, before she even moved to Seattle.  
Meanwhile, Chloe was taking a few clothes out of her side of the wardrobe: blue jeans, of course, a long-sleeved shirt and a red jumper that Max did not recognize. 

"Is that jumper new?" she asked.

"Actually, it is!" the punk answered. Then, with a slightly embarrassed face, she added: "It's not exactly my style, but I figured you'd like it, and Valentine's day was approaching, so... - shit, I'm getting all mushy now. It's all your fault!" she accused, then playfully hit Max on her arm. 

Teamwork actually helped, but they were still late for the bus: they considered asking Ryan for a ride downtown, but Max did not want to bother her parents, which were having a Valentine's dinner themselves, although at home. In the end, they decided to invest a few bucks on a cab and headed downtown.

* * *

They got off the cab, paid a bit more than they would have liked to and approached the restaurant they had chosen for the evening. As usual, they'd been late in reserving a table, too, and a couple of restaurants they had eyed were already full; in the end, they had chosen an Italian restaurant, which was pretty highly rated on Yelp for their food. 

They were greeted at the entrance by a young waiter who took their jackets and accompanied them to their table, next to a window with the view on the street. The restaurant's decor was a bit tacky, as if the owner was trying too hard to convey the feeling of Italianness, with the walls decorated with musical instruments, paintings and photos that depicted the stereotypical views of Italy: Venice, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Mount Vesuvius, ...  
As she followed the waiter and Chloe to reach their table, Max looked around herself and she couldn't help but snicker a little when the first thought she had was some criticism of one of the photos hung on the wall: an aerial shot of the Coliseum, _but you can barely see the inside and it looks like it's been edited by a toddler_ , she thought. 

Despite the less than encouraging premises, Max and Chloe sat down at their table, their hands just barely touching over the tablecloth. The waiter came with a bottle of water and the menus, which positively surprised the two girls: there weren't many dishes, but they seemed authentic enough, and next to each was a short description of the dish's history.

"So, girlfriend" Chloe asked, making sure the emphasis on that particular word was noticeable, while raising her head from the menu, "what are you going to eat at _Chez Excessivez_?"

"It all looks so good I'm going to drool all over the table, but I think I'll go with the lasagna" she answered after a moment of thought. "And Chloe, _Chez Excessivez_ is French, not Italian, just saying" she added with a sly grin. 

"Whatever, I'm hungry, I feel like I got the munchies! I'll go with the carbonara pasta, it looks heavy enough for me. Aaaand, we should get some wine to drink".

"Chloe, you know I don't drink".

"Come ooooon, don't be such a fun killer, it's our first Valentine's together and we have to toast to eternal love and all that shit" the punk answered, waving her hand around as if dismissing the very same concept she was planning to toast to. 

"Besides," she added, "you've been drinking when we go out with Kris and Fernando now".

"Yes, _one single beer_ " Max answered, her face annoyed and amused at the same time, "and I get drunk on that alone".

"I know, and that's cute and funny as shit" laughed the oldest girl. 

In the end, they settled for a glass of red wine each, just for the toast. The waiter came to take their orders and returned later with their dishes. 

* * *

Max puffed away air and looked up from her almost empty plate, raising her hands in surrender. 

"I feel like I'm going to explode" she said, and Chloe in front of her nodded, sinking in her chair. 

The two girls had loved the food, and all the reviews they'd read were clearly true. Now they sat at the table, finishing their wine. After a moment of silence, Chloe suddenly took a serious expression and looked at Max. 

"What are you gonna do next, Max?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"In four months, you're going to graduate Blackwell. Then? Have you got any plans on college or stuff?"

Max was surprised by that question; it was, indeed, a massive elephant in the room that was her own head, and she feared that the moment would come when she would have to discuss that with Chloe. After all they'd gone through, that was a decision they should take together, because there was no way they were ever going to get separated again.   
And then, if that wasn't enough, Max was gripped by her own doubts. Just a few months ago, she was adamant on going to college and studying photography, but now? She wasn't even sure she could take good photos, let alone become a professional, or even an artist. 

She took a deep breath before answering her girlfriend. 

"I... I don't know yet, Chloe..." she said, somewhat ashamedly. 

"Hey!" the other answered, grabbing her hand over the table: she had obviously read the discomfort in her partner's tone and face. "You don't have to decide right here and right now. I was just wondering if you had any plans on what you're going to do next"

"No... but I know that anything _we_ are going to do, we'll do together" said Max, letting Chloe's hand grip hers. Then, she continued: "I looked at a couple of colleges here and there, but I'm not that sure..."

"About what?"

"About _everything_ , Chloe!" the hipster said, feeling somewhat disappointed that her girlfriend couldn't understand her - a feeling she immediately regretted. _It isn't Chloe's fault_ , she thought, _she's doing all she can to make you comfortable and you still fuck it up, Max_ "

"It's just..." she added, looking down at her plate "I don't know if I can make it".

"Of course you can! You're SuperMax, remember? And you've been taking photos again, beautiful photos! You're going to get anywhere girl! _We_ 're going to get anywhere!"

"Thanks" the younger girl answered with a sincere smile. Somehow, Chloe always seemed to be able to strike the right chords and get in a better mood - something that she knew she wasn't able to do the same way. 

"You know..." Max started to say, then stopped: she was embarrassed of what she had thought about; a smiling nod from Chloe encouraged her to finish her sentence. "It's just... I've seen a photo contest, organized by this gallery in Portland... it may help to get a few pictures around, but there's no way my pictures are going to get accepted..."

"Max, stop playing yourself down. You've got talent. Take your pictures and send 'em to those guys. They'll love them, I'm sure!"

"I don't know, Chloe... there are going to be so many great photographers, and they're going to have those fancy cameras and great themes, and --"

"Max, seriously. I mean what I said. Trying costs nothing, and you never know what might happen! Plus, we'd said we'd go to Portland, right? This will be the perfect occasion, I'm sure".

Max nodded, then brought Chloe's hand to her mouth and placed a light kiss on it. "Thanks", she whispered. 

"Okay", exclaimed Chloe, lifting herself up on the chair. "Enough with this negativity, let's have some fun. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?"

"A few times, but I haven't been in years I think"

"Great! You know, I used to play it all the time with Rachel..." she paused for a second, before continuing with a more enthused tone: "let's bet... this dinner! The loser will pay the bill!"

"Aren't we too young for gambling?" laughed Max. 

"Don't be such a chickenshit! Besides, I've done sooo many things I was too young for" the punk quipped back with a sly grin, to which the other girl responded by blatantly rolling her eyes.

"Alright, shall I start?" Chloe continued. "Wait, I just realized there isn't much you don't know about me, so this little game of ours might be shorter than I intended, but here we go anyway" she added, shrugging.  
"So... Alright. I have been a vegetarian for some time while you were here. I have voted at the last mayoral elections back in Arcadia, last year. I once managed to get in at a concert despite being underage by talking shit to the bouncer. Now, what's the truth?"

"Let me see... Okay, the concert one has to be true".

"Am I so obvious?"

"Just a bit. Now, for the hard part... I can't imagine you turning down a plate of bacon, but you always cared about nature, so that could be the truth. And I really can't think of you going into a voting booth, so that's got to be the lie"

"Boom, Max! You hella read my mind! You're right, though, fuck politicians. I didn't even know who the Mayor was in Arcadia. As for the vegetarianism... that kinda is a lie, because I only lasted a week or so. I think I only did it to piss off David" she laughed. "Now, your turn".

"You know, I haven't exactly had an exciting life here, though... Okay, first: I have been to one single baseball game in my life and caught a home run ball with my Dad. Second, remember that Dominic kid we always saw at the diner with his family when we were little kids?"

"Yeah, I think I heard he and his folks moved away a couple years ago"

"I didn't know that... anyway, I thought he was cute at the time".

"Max Caulfield liking boys? That has to be the lie!" the punk joked.

"Stop it!" the hipster replied, playfully scolding her. "Now, number three: I have published my photos on the school newspaper back at Newton High".

"Okay, that's pretty difficult, but... I can't see you going to a baseball game, despite your Dad, and you sure can't catch a ball!"

"Aaaaand, you lost!"

"What? No way, dude, you're lying!"

"I'll show that homer ball tomorrow, it's in my parents' room, my Dad always kept it. By the way, you're right about baseball. Boring ass game"

"So, you liked Dominic, huh?"

"Chloe, we were, what? Nine? I just thought he was cute, I wasn't in love or anything, we barely knew him!"

"You better not be, or I'll have to drive all the way to Arizona or wherever the fuck they are and kick his ass"

"The thing I love about you, and that scares me the most, is that I know you'd do it"

"You know it, girl! Now, my turn again..."

* * *

Despite losing at two truths and a lie, and her insistence, Max wasn't able to split the bill as Chloe wanted to pay for the dinner and, in her words, "treat her girlfriend right". They left the restaurant and walked to the nearest bus stop, hand in hand. On the bus ride home, Max briefly fell asleep on Chloe's shoulder. 

Getting into their bed and turning off the light, Chloe found herself thinking: if this is what Valentine's days are all about, maybe all that mushy shit is worth it.  
She kissed Max goodnight and they quickly fell asleep, smiles on their lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's cheesy, but c'mon! You can't keep the Valentine's day fluff out of a pricefield fic!
> 
> This chapter tries to focus on Max and Chloe's interactions, showing how much they are friends as well as girlfriends. I hope it does that successfully. 
> 
> If you like cheese consider saving a slice for me! Oh, and maybe leaving some kudos! 
> 
> Love you :)


End file.
